#money heist x reader

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ scarface ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ berlin x hostage!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ “i’m afraid you comrades have become our hostages.”

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t see the man speaking, none of you could. the blindfold pressed against your face, blocking the light that shone through the polished windows, just as the criminals had blocked every avenue of escape. you stood no different to the others lined up alongside you, all you could do was listen. the nervous shuffling of feet, muffled sobs, and the erratic breathing of strangers filled the air, feeding your already frayed nerves. the tension was suffocating, tightening around your chest like an iron grip.

˚ ༘♡ you were not supposed to be here. as an executive assistant for the korean mint, your job revolved around order, organizing reports, managing schedules, ensuring things ran smoothly. yet none of that prepared you for this chaos. the only reason you were here at this godforsaken hour was because the sleazy director had called you back after your shift ended. under the pretense of a scheduling issue, he had summoned you to his office, but his leering gaze and thinly veiled intentions made you regret not making an excuse to stay home. now, that regret burned even brighter, a pang of apprehension wretched in your stomach.

˚ ༘♡ the voice came again, stony and slicing through the panicked murmurs of the hostages. heavy footsteps echoed in the vast room, measured and unhurried, each step landing with intent. your pulse quickened. the sound grew closer, louder, more oppressive, until it felt as if it would stop directly in front of you. and to your fright, it did.

˚ ༘♡ a hand reached out, rough and sure, grasping your face. it wasn’t harsh enough to hurt, but there was no tenderness in it either, only control. your breath grew unstable as you felt the blindfold torn away, the fabric scraping against your skin. the sudden exposure to light stung your eyes, but you didn’t dare look up. fear rooted you in place, your gaze fixed on the ground as your hands trembled at your sides.

˚ ༘♡ “look up.” the voice was deep, mocking, the hint of a smirk woven into the thick north korean accent. the command wasn’t shouted, but it didn’t need to be. its weight was undeniable, pressing down on you like a hand on your throat. trembling, you hesitated, your fear begging you to keep staring at the floor.

˚ ༘♡ “i said, look up.” this time, there was steel in his tone, and the words struck like a whip. your body betrayed you before your mind could argue. slowly, reluctantly, you lifted your gaze.

˚ ༘♡ and that’s when you saw him.

˚ ༘♡ a man stood before you, perhaps in his late thirties or early forties. his features were pointed and unyielding, his sun-tanned skin stretched over high cheekbones and a jaw that clenched with latent superiority. his dark hair was slicked back, further emphasizing the austerity of his appearance. he did not wear a hahoe mask like the others. you could see his face clearly, and that fact alone sent a frigid sensation of fear through your veins. there was only one conclusion to draw from this, you would not leave here alive. no one could see a criminal’s face and live to tell the tale.

˚ ༘♡ “hmm.” his voice was quiet as he pondered what was on his mind, the sound of it drawing your breath to a halt. he leaned in, his piercing gaze narrowing as it swept over your face, studying you with disturbing focus. your chest rose and fell in rapid succession, struggling to expel the air caught in your lungs.

˚ ༘♡ “take a deep breath, would you?” his words were deceptively calm, but there was an authority in them you dared not defy.

˚ ༘♡ your hands trembled as you tried to obey, forcing an unstable inhale that did little to steady your racing heart. his eyes landed on your wool coat, where your phone protruded in the pocket. before you could react, he extended his hand.

˚ ༘♡ “give it to me.”

˚ ༘♡ hesitantly, you reached into your coat, stiff with fear, and handed the device to him. the instant it left your grasp, he tossed it to the ground. the sound of the screen shattering against the cold floor jolted you, but what came next made your stomach drop. with one swift motion, he raised his boot and brought it down, crushing the phone into a pile of broken glass and metal.

˚ ༘♡ you gasped aloud, stepping back as your limbs threatened to give out. your lips parted in shock, but he remained unfazed, standing there as if nothing had happened.

˚ ༘♡ “i’m berlin,” he introduced himself, his tone harsh and taunting. his gaze didn’t move as he continued, his voice softening into a contemplative murmur. “and you… you’re the daughter of the korean defense minister, aren’t you?”

˚ ༘♡ his words slashed through the sinister atmosphere, leaving you motionless where you stood.

˚ ༘♡ “i recognize your face now.” his lips twisted into a bemused grin. “tell me, why is the daughter of a wealthy minister working as a lackey in the mint?”

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t answer. your voice, if it even existed, was trapped somewhere between fear and disbelief. your eyes darted down to the shattered remains of your phone, then back up to meet his unyielding gaze. the glass fragments seemed to glint like shards of your own hope scattered across the floor.

˚ ༘♡ what he said was true. you were the eldest daughter of the defense minister, a man appointed to his position after the unification of korea. your father, once a prominent figure in the south korean national assembly, had earned his power and influence through a career focused on military affairs. but none of that mattered now. the consequence of that identity, the very thing you had tried so hard to keep hidden, was now fully exposed.

˚ ༘♡ berlin turned away from you with an air of satisfaction, as though he had uncovered some magnificent treasure. “how lucky are we, huh, denver?” he said, addressing one of the masked criminals in a red jumpsuit. his tone was darkly delighted, dripping with smug arrogance. “the daughter of such a prominent figure, right here, as our hostage.”

˚ ༘♡ “sir…” you finally managed to stammer, your voice weak. every fiber of your being told you that begging or pleading would be futile, this heist was too carefully planned, too calculated for something as pitiful as that to persuade them. yet, despite the tremor in your voice, you forced the words out. “if… if i could just know the reason behind your mission.”

˚ ༘♡ he sneered at your question, his lip curling as if amused by your naïveté. “that,” he said coldly, his tone sharp enough to slice through you, “is none of your concern.” he stepped closer, and you instinctively leaned back, though there was nowhere to go. “don’t waste my time with stupid questions. it will do you no good.”

˚ ༘♡ before you could retreat further, his hand reached out, firm fingers tilting your chin upward. his dark eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your pulse thunder in your ears. his touch was ice-cold, akin to winter frost against your skin, and it sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.

˚ ༘♡ “moscow,” he barked, not breaking his gaze from yours, “head upstairs and inform the professor of our… fortunate discovery. i think he’ll find it rather interesting.”

˚ ༘♡ a stout man, dressed identically to the rest of the criminals, gave a nod and slung his rifle over his shoulder. without a word, he ascended the staircase, his laced boots thudding against the metal steps.

˚ ༘♡ you glanced around, your fear morphing into panic as your gaze drifted over the rest of the room. your co-workers from the mint, along with the high school students from the field trip, were still lined up, trembling and blindfolded. their muffled whimpers and shaky breathing filled the space like a grim symphony.

˚ ༘♡ but berlin’s attention was locked solely on you. “you,” he said, his voice dropping to something inexplicable, perhaps intimate, yet no less dangerous, “don’t belong here with the rest of the hostages, do you? no, you’re quite special.”

˚ ༘♡ his grip constructed around your arm suddenly, rough enough to make you wince. “rio, tokyo,” he barked, not sparing a glance at the others. “get the rest of the hostages dressed and armed. i’ll handle our guest here.”

˚ ༘♡ two figures stepped forward from the line of criminals. the younger man, who you assumed was rio, removed his mask without reluctance and began moving to obey berlin’s orders. his expression was subdued, almost resigned, as though this were routine. the woman, tokyo, followed suit, her softer features contorting into a glare she didn’t bother to hide from berlin. though she clearly didn’t agree, she complied without protest.

˚ ༘♡ before you could process what was happening, berlin began dragging you toward the stairs. his grip was unrelenting, and you stumbled to keep pace. the acrid scent of cigarette smoke clung to his breath, filling your senses and heightening your unease.

˚ ༘♡ as you were pulled upstairs, you glanced over your shoulder. the rest of the hostages were being herded like sheep, their blindfolds removed and their devices confiscated. there was an air of chaos and helplessness, but the criminals operated with a cold precision that made it all the more horrifying.

˚ ༘♡ you knew he had ordered you not to speak, but the aching concern for your colleagues at the mint outweighed your better judgment. you forced the words out, your voice barely above a whisper, “sir, what will happen to the others?”

˚ ༘♡ his reaction was instant, cruel and unforgiving. “enough with the questions. are you deaf?” his tone was laced with irritation, his hand tightening on your arm as he halted at the top of the stairs. his free hand moved briskly to rest on the rifle slung across his chest, an action that sent your pulse into overdrive. “as long as they do as they’re told,” he said coldly, his eyes flicking down to meet yours, “they’ll live.”

˚ ༘♡ the intent behind his words sank solemnly in your chest, but they provided little comfort. what did doing as they’re told mean? what did that entail? you didn’t dare ask for clarification. fear had locked your throat shut.

˚ ༘♡ at the end of the hallway, he forced you into a conference room. it was meant to be a professional space, a place for meetings, discussions, plans, but now it felt like a suffocating cage. berlin shoved you forward with a careless force that sent you stumbling to the floor. the tawny carpet felt rough beneath your hands, and as you tried to gather yourself, you realized your legs wouldn’t stop shaking. you were trembling so violently that getting back up seemed impossible.

˚ ༘♡ he stood over you, shaking his head with a theatrical sigh, his expression twisted into something resembling mock pity. “get up,” he ordered, his voice ridden with feigned concern. “it’s a pathetic sight. if i wanted to kill you, don’t you think i’d have done it by now?”

˚ ༘♡ yet even his attempt to rationalize your survival did nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. when you didn’t rise fast enough, he moved toward you, his impatience evident. before you could brace yourself, his hands gripped your waist, hauling you to your feet with little regard for your pitiful form.

˚ ༘♡ “relax, damn it!” he lashed out, though there was no softness in the demand. his hands lingered a second too long before he let go, stepping back. “you’ve got the easy end of this,” he continued, nodding toward the door. “out there? they’re the ones who’ll do the hard labor. you? you get to stay here, comfortably out of the way.”

˚ ༘♡ your eyes widened, the tears you’d been holding back streaking down your pallid cheeks. you couldn’t stop yourself from inquiring, the words escaping your mouth negligently. “but why… why do i need to stay here?”

˚ ༘♡ his lips curved into a faint, sardonic smile, as though your confusion entertained him. “another question,” he droned, his tone coarsely indulgent. “but i’ll allow it, i was going to tell you anyway.”

˚ ༘♡ he stepped closer, the austerity of his presence bearing down on you. “the police will come,” he began, his voice calm but charged with menace. “it’s only a matter of time. they’ll gather intel on the crisis, and they’ll try to ruin everything for us, storm the building, act recklessly.” he paused, his dark eyes boring into yours. “but they won’t. not when they know we have the minister of defense’s daughter in our grasp.”

˚ ༘♡ the reveal of the grand scheme hit you like a blow, leaving you breathless. you stared up at him, horrified, as the full reality of your situation sank in. you weren’t merely a hostage, you were leverage, a bargaining chip, a pawn in their game. and there was no escaping it.

˚ ༘♡ “i already know what you’re going to say,” berlin said, his voice deadly quiet, yet every word seemed to reverberate in the air around you. his finger grazed your cheekbone, the touch sedated and delicate, as if savoring the terror etched across your face. the lightest brush of his skin against yours was enough to send a shudder through your body. his hand continued its path, stopping just at the curve of your rosy lips, his dark eyes watching your every reaction with a formidable pleasure.

˚ ༘♡ “and if the police don’t heed your father’s words?” he murmured, tilting his head slightly as though contemplating the question himself. his finger hovered over your lips, lingering just long enough to make you careen in your stance. “then that pretty face of yours won’t see another day.”

˚ ༘♡ there was a chilling contradiction in his expression, brutality melded with a macabre thrill, as if he relished the power he held over you and everyone else. it was distressing in its intensity, and you couldn’t tear your gaze away, no matter how much you wanted to.

˚ ༘♡ he pulled back slightly, his tone shifting into something almost casual, as though he hadn’t delivered a forthcoming death threat. “if the police act accordingly, it won’t have to come to that,” he said, his tone smooth and reassuring. “you’ll leave here unscathed, so don’t worry too much.”

˚ ༘♡ he smirked then, the expression devoid of true sincerity but brimming with confidence. “i’m willing to believe your dear father will do everything in his power to ensure his precious daughter’s safety. a man like him doesn’t let something like you go to waste. he would heaven and earth for you, wouldn’t he?”

˚ ༘♡ your politician father’s influence, his position, his wealth, it had all painted a target on your back. now, you were nothing more than power in their hands, a negotiation tool that could either save or destroy you. and berlin appeared to revel in the knowledge of it.

a/n: a money heist korea fanfiction for berlin! let me know if you have anymore requests for him as well as your thoughts! 🤍

[grimeshound]

BERLIN NSFW HCS…

masterlist

cw: 18+, degrading, oral (m receiving), brat taming, clit slapping, dumbification, gun play, dom/sub dynamics, exhibitionism, possessiveness, general filth.

a/n: my content warnings get crazier and crazier each post i feel… anyways i will always have such a soft spot for berlin. i need more park haesoo berlin content on tumblr, ao3, anything T_T

—-

• he’s a bully. nothings off the table when it comes to finding creative ways to humiliate you. he’ll put his cigarette butt on you, rub the tip of his boot on your clothed cunt while you’re on your knees, the list goes on.

• ass guy. if you decide to wear short shorts, he won’t even try to hide when he checks you out. don’t ask him the color of ANYTHING.

• brat tamer. piss him off and he’ll either have you bent over his knee or your legs spread wide, not stopping until you’ve learned your lesson. his hand slaps your sensitive clit over and over as you beg, gripping his sleeve for mercy, only for him to shove your hands away with a cold glare.

“shut the fuck up. you wanna keep being a little bitch? then I’ll treat you like one.”

• loves using you as his personal little deskpet. when he tells you to get on your knees, you’re already sliding to the floor beneath his mahogany desk, ready to take him all the way down until you’re choking, tears streaming as his tip brushes the back of your throat.

• gun kink. whether it’s pressing the cold barrel of his pistol against your bare skin while you ride him, or making you lick his gun on your knees while maintaining eye contact, the sight of you getting off on the dangerous weapon is burned into his mind.

• berlin’s thick, unmistakable north korean accent is something he barely acknowledges, but it’s impossible for you to ignore. the way his deep, gravelly voice wraps around his words becomes your undoing. especially when he leans in so close, his breath hot against your ear growling filthy praises and insults while he pounds into you.

“filthy whore. look at you, messy cunt drippin’ all over my slacks.”

• loves it when he’s fully dressed while you’re completely naked. he barely tugs his pants down, just enough to free himself. reveling in the power imbalance and the way your cheeks flush with embarrassment, feeling impossibly more bare under his gaze.

• it drives him crazy just how much smaller you are in comparison to him, how easily he can manhandle you into whatever position he wants—doggy, full nelson, even folding you completely into a mating press.

• berlin thrives on the idea of completely owning you—mind, body, and soul. he loves reducing you to a babbling, cock-drunk mess, so hooked on him that you can’t think of anything else. he’ll claim you in every way imaginable, marking you with his teeth, buying you necklaces engraved with his name, ensuring you’re his in every sense. the thought of you becoming his obedient little doll, existing only to please him, drives him feral.

“good girl… my dumb little dolly, huh? all mine. always mine,” he’d chuckle darkly, his voice thick with satisfaction as he watches you come undone for him.

• quickie enthusiast. with his spontaneous nature, it’s to be expected. berlin has a knack for stealing moments in the middle of his busy schedule, he’ll pull you into a quiet corner and have his way with you before anyone even notices.

• berlin’s biggest fantasy? exhibitionism. the idea of fucking you in front of someone else gets him so damn hard. it doesn’t even have to be a big audience—just the thought of one shitty ex of yours watching you go completely cockdrunk under him while knowing they could never touch you again sends him over the edge. after all, berlin isn’t one for sharing his toys.

[fr3akshow-d4rlin]

Berlin/Song Jungho x reader

Warnings: mention of death, concentration camps and guns,

Word count:1.2k ( i actually checked this time 🩷)

A/n: i like this fic!! I hope you enjoy it and it was requested!

Berlin’s eyes shot open, the darkness of the room swallowing him whole. His body was drenched in sweat, his heart racing in the cold stillness of the night. He sat up in a sudden, frantic motion, as if trying to escape the nightmare that was still gripping him. His breath came in sharp, desperate gasps, and for a moment, he didn’t know where he was. The faint smell of antiseptic, the cold steel walls—he was back. Back in the hell of the concentration camp.

The sounds echoed in his ears: the screams, the marching, the gunshots. His body trembled, his fists clenched at the memory of the torment he had survived. He could still hear the haunting whispers of those he had lost, the faces of the men and women who hadn’t made it out alive, etched into his mind.

Suddenly, a soft voice broke through the fog of his nightmare.

“Jung-ho.”

His head snapped toward the voice, blinking in confusion. It was you. Your soft, reassuring voice grounded him, pulling him back into the present. His vision was blurry, but he could make out the outline of your figure beside him, the warmth of your presence in the otherwise cold room.

“Shhh,” you whispered, your hand gently reaching for his trembling arm. “You’re okay. It’s just a nightmare. You’re here with me.”

His eyes filled with panic, his chest tight. The nightmare hadn’t fully left him, and his breath was still ragged. But as your hand touched him, it was like an anchor, a lifeline in the darkness.

“Not again,” he muttered, his voice low and shaky. He didn’t want to relive that terror. Not again. Not in front of you. “I... I can’t—”

“Jung ho,” you said again, your voice unwavering, soft yet firm. “You don’t have to be afraid. You’re safe. I’m here.”

His eyes searched yours, and for the first time in a long time, he saw no judgment, no pity—just understanding. He had always been so proud, so careful to keep his vulnerability hidden away, locked deep inside. But with you, he felt something he hadn’t in years—acceptance. You didn’t see him as broken. You didn’t see the monster others sometimes painted him as. You just saw him.

A quiet sob broke through his chest, his emotions swirling in a violent mix of helplessness and fear. His hand reached for you, desperate, and without hesitation, you took it.

He met your eyes, the usual arrogance and bravado gone, replaced with vulnerability. It was rare, even for someone as complex as Berlin, to show this side of himself. But with you, he felt safe enough to let it slip away.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Please stay with me.”

You nodded, moving closer to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into the warmth of your embrace. He leaned into you, his body still trembling from the remnants of the nightmare, his head resting on your shoulder. The comfort of your touch soothed him, and slowly, he felt his racing heart begin to calm. He let out a deep breath, closing his eyes, trying to focus on the sound of your heartbeat against his ear, the steady rhythm grounding him.

The room was silent except for the soft, quiet sound of your breathing. You held him tighter, feeling the tension in his body slowly begin to dissolve. The air between you was thick with the unspoken connection that had always been there, even in moments like this, where all Berlin could show was his raw, unguarded self.

“I hate it,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “The nightmares... they won’t go away. I don’t know how to stop them.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your thumb gently brushing over his jawline. “You don’t have to stop them. But I’ll be here with you. You don’t have to face them alone.”

Berlin’s gaze softened, his usual arrogance and deflection fading in the intimacy of the moment. His eyes traced the contours of your face, searching for reassurance, for something to hold onto in this fragile, vulnerable space. You were here—his protector, his anchor in the storm. He never asked for this kind of connection, but it had found its way to him all the same.

“I don’t deserve this,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

“Everyone deserves love, Jung-ho,” you replied, your voice quiet but firm. “You included.”

He leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours. The contact was intimate, grounding, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. The nightmares, the fears, the endless weight of his past—it all seemed to fade away in the presence of your closeness.

But there was still so much unspoken. A part of him wanted to distance himself, to retreat back into the layers of pride and walls he had so carefully built over the years. But another part—the one that had been slowly unraveling ever since you had come into his life—longed to let you in. Longed to let you see the parts of him he kept buried.

Without thinking, Berlin’s hand reached for your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. His breath caught as his gaze locked onto yours, his lips barely inches from yours. His heart thudded in his chest, the same rapid pulse that had filled his veins during the nightmare, now pounding for an entirely different reason.

“Jung-ho,” you whispered again, your voice a quiet plea, a question. And in that moment, you knew what he needed—what he wanted. You didn’t wait for him to ask. You closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a slow, gentle kiss.

The world around you seemed to disappear. There was no nightmare, no past, no walls. There was just the warmth of your lips against his, the softness of your touch, the connection between two souls that had found solace in each other despite the darkness of the world.

Berlin’s heart raced, but this time, it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of something deeper—something beautiful that had been growing between the two of you. He deepened the kiss, his hand cupping your face as if he were afraid you might slip away, as if he might wake up from this moment just as he had woken from the nightmare.

But you were real. You were here.

And for the first time in a long time, Berlin didn’t feel alone.

When the kiss finally broke, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other, your hands still tangled together. Berlin’s eyes were closed, his body leaning into yours as if drawing strength from the simple, pure connection.

“I didn’t know I could feel this way again,” he whispered, his voice raw, as though he was confessing something deep within.

“You don’t have to be alone anymore,” you murmured, kissing the corner of his lips softly.

Berlin nodded, his chest swelling with something he hadn’t let himself feel in years. Hope. Love. The quiet promise of something more. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“You don’t have to thank me, Berlin. I’m not going anywhere.”

And in that moment, the nightmares seemed just a little more bearable, the future a little less uncertain. As long as you were by his side, there was hope. There was peace. And for the first time in so long, Berlin let himself believe in it.

A/n: i hope you enjoy it!!

[depressopax]

La casa de papel NSFW alphabet

Fandom - La casa de papel/Money Heist

Part 3 - From K-O

»» Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 4 ««

Pairing: Nairobi - Berlin - Denver - Tokyo - Professor - Alicia Sierra - x gender neutral reader Genre: Smut, headcanons Warning(s): Sexual content! MDNI. Sub/dom, (semi) public, possessiveness, mentions of mommy kinks, Words: 1.7K Summary: NSFW alphabet challenge D-F. What are the LCDP characters like in bed? English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 || AO3 link || Masterlist || Request ||

Nairobi

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sub/dom & authority (in which she is more of a soft domme)

Sex toys (...especially strap-ons 🤭)

Praise & degradation

Breeding 

Semi/Public sex

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Preferably in bed

To provide you both comfort and give you good aftercare

Like I’ve said in earlier parts, she won’t mind being a bit risky and doing it in public places ;)

Especially to make you scream her name to let people know who you belong too

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Everything from big romantic/cheesy gestures

…To simple things such as you wearing skimpy clothes or trying to rile her up - she likes it when you act all needy and horny for her

A good, long foreplay gets her going too.

Teasing each other in public

Bonus: Homegirl ain’t scared to slide her hand down your underwears when at a restaurant just to see you flustered “I can't wait to strip you out of those clothes later.”

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Threesomes or “sharing” you

It’s a big NO

You’re hers, and the thought of someone else touching you the way she does? It doesn’t sit right with her

Anything that makes you uncomfortable turns her off tbh

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Likes both equally

That’s why she likes 69ing with you lol

Very passionate when giving you

Will have you on the couch, leg spread wide whilst she goes down

And B O Y she’s good 

When receiving, she loves bringing you to your knees

That way, she can place her legs over your shoulders for her own comfort

…And tease you by squeezing her thighs around you and force you in place

Very loud when receiving, and demanding

If you have longer hair she’ll pull it slightly and guide your head

And VERY praising afterwards

Berlin

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage

Impact play

Dom/sub & discipline

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bed, the couch, against the kitchen counter/table…

Prefers a bit privacy

So anywhere at home where he can bend you over will do it

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Simply… You.

And his own fantasies.

Just imagining what he wants to do with you

Or what he wants YOU to do to him, gets him going.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Threesomes and cuckolding

Anything that has to do with sharing you

Seriously, he’ll get seriously offended if you suggest it 😭

Doesn’t like humiliation, neither on you or him

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Homeboy passionate AF

He adores and worships every single inch of you, so ofc he gives you a lot of attention… Down there ;)

He can spend hours giving you oral pleasure

Not only to satisfy you, but because he genuinely gets turned on from going down on someone. It brings him pleasure too

He loves receiving too

Will have you on your knees, loving the sight of you so submissive and eager to please him

Pushing into your warm mouth, rewarding you with praise and LOUD grunts and moans

He hates being the guy to fuck your face

…But if he gets too into it/eager? He’ll do it and not even feel sorry afterwards

He makes up for your gagging and sore throat afterwards tho 🤭

Denver

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dirty talking

Roleplay

…Breeding ;)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere, any time, ALL THE TIME.

He’s a horny guy, what can he say?

If you’re horny, he won’t let you be all bothered

If you’re in public he’ll find a somewhat private spot where you can take care of each other's “problems” ;)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Y O U

He’s easy to turn on

Kinda pervy when it comes to you, just watching you suck on a lollipop or ice-cream will have him aroused tbh 😭

Nudes too

If you’re comfortable sending them ofc

It’s the biggest motivation EVER, he adores and loves worshiping your naked body 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s not that kinky, so anything that is too “extreme” is not it.

Not that fond off BDSM etc

He’ll try it if you are into it, but it’s not for him

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers receiving tbh

Your warm lips wrapped around his cock works like a charm.

Stressed? Sad? Happy? Angry? Blowjobs!!! 🤪

Still likes giving too

Especially when you show your appreciation with sweet moans

It boosts his ego to know he can make you sound like that 

Just love to make  you feel good. 

Tokyo

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Worship & praise

Degradation

Sex toys

Semi/public sex

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Doesn’t matter really

If she wants you - she NEEDS you, right there, right now

Doesn’t mind fucking you in a dirty restroom if she’s horny for you

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your presence alone is enough tbh

She is extremely attracted to you and everything you do turns her on

When you bend down to pick something up, smiling at her from across the room…

Touch is her love language, and she loves hugging you

Her hands wandering to your ass, thighs or stomach, feeling your body under her palms… It drives her crazy

Or if you do the same on her. 

She melts under your touch and craves more.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything where you could end up hurt

Sure she likes to be a bit wild, but your comfort is still prioritized.

She hates the thought of you bruised up in any way (except from hickeys, which she loves giving and receiving)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers receiving

Just being able to sit back down and enjoy watching your mouth working on her pussy

Tokyo is the person to grind against your mouth

VERY loud too, and praising.

When giving - she likes surprising you

For example dropping to her knees when your least expect it and then work her way down

And she’s good at it too

Professor

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Authority

Roleplay

Dom/sub (in which he prefers being submissive)

Worship & praise

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Sergio is a classy man 💅

Prefers the bed, it’s the most comfy option, after all. 

He prefers slow, passionate session in the bedroom

If he’s feeling extra wild he’ll do it in the couch or shower  🤭

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You teasing him 

…Or purposely trying to turn him on - It works. 

When you make him feel hot and wanted.

Homeboy have low self-esteem, so you touching him, telling him he’s sexy/good-looking etc not only makes him feel good about himself…

But also flusters him and turns him on 🥹

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I feel like he is pretty “vanilla”

He is more of a sub, so he prefers it if you are taking charge tho

Likes experimenting but a big no for him is:

Humiliation, pain and being rude/disrespectful towards you

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers giving

He thinks it’s fascinating how you enjoy his oral skills so much

The first times were messy and awkward but he quickly learnt what you liked and improved his skills

His tongue and mouth *chefs kiss*

Could spend hours between your legs, watching you go crazy from something he’s doing

Won’t say no to receiving tho 👀

He’s not so picky, just you wanting to give him a blowjob turns him on

He’ll hold a gentle hand on the back of your head

You will earn some grunts and soft moans from his

Alicia Sierra

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

This one either makes a lot of sense, or not at all.

Mommy kink

Said it before, but she is a domme

She doesn’t necessarily ask you to call her “Mommy”

But still, she likes the thought of dominating you but doing so in a soft way

She’ll absolutely destroy you in bed, whilst whispering words of encouragement and getting turned on by your whimpers and moans

…And even by those pretty tears in your eyes as she edges and overstims you. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom

She prefers intimacy and privacy

Since she is a bit rougher she wants to provide you with some type of comfort, such as having you on bed, having a pillow behind your back or under your lower abdominal

Although, she’s keen on the idea of taking you in public places if you’re both in the mood, or if you’ve “been bad” ;)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Turning her on is not a challenge

Wear something revealing - or better, nothing at all! - and she’s ready to take you.

You’re a treasure to her and so beautiful, how can she not be horny for you?

Makes sure to rile you up too

With her wearing tops to show off her cleavage, whispering to you how badly she wants to fuck you… 

She also adores you being bratty. She sometimes ignores your need on purpose just to have you cry and turn into a whiny bitch to receive attention

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Yes, she likes being rough, but there are limits

She wouldn’t do something that could hurt you or inflict pain

Anything with blood etc is a big no for her

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Prefers giving

But she expects you to do something in return, to thank her.

Absolutely drives you insane with her skilled tongue and warm lips, finding all the right places and spots to make you scream her name

Knows how to make you cum quickly and her goal is to at least give you 1-2 orgasms

She’s demanding when receiving.

Will have you lay down and sit on your face, grinding it and guiding the movements of your tongue and lips

Loves making you a mess and watching your swollen lips and the way her juices drips on your chin

Rough, fast movements over you as she praises you

Swells with pride as she sees the mess she’s made out of her perfect partner, knowing that you’re hers, and hers only.

[writingbyshiloh]

3 Times You Hear People Refer to You as a Team and the 1 Time You Didn't

Berlin x Reader

CW: Reader goes by Vienna and is a medical person (only 2 lines about it!) suggestive content but no smut, sneaking around? no beta

AN: I’m so normal about Berlin I promise (lying). I'm definitely forgetting a CW but nothing too bad or dramatic happens. 

WC: 1.7k

“Wait, what's with team Germany? Two people with city names from the same country?” the dark-haired young man asks. You know his name is an American city, starting with a D. Dallas? Detroit? Denver!

It's obvious who half of the team is. Berlin is the capital of Germany. You don’t know who the second is. You frown while trying to remember the other city names in Europe. Oslo, Helsinki, and Moscow but none of them are in Germany. 

“Vienna?” you ask, pointing a finger at yourself.

His dad, Moscow smacks him on the back of his head. “Vienna’s not in Germany, dumbass.” 

Denver laughs, loud and not caring about his geographical mistake. “Right, it’s in Italy.” 

Others join in laughing at his second mistake. 

“It’s the capital of Austria?” You say bewildered. “They speak German but it's still very much in Austria.” 

Too late for you to interject, the team name had stuck.

The second time is during one of the many drills the professor makes at all hours of the night. You had an advantage, being awake and somewhat alert.

“Any man would forfeit his share of the heist for you to look at him like that,” Berlin says quietly, smoothing his hand down your back. You’re both stretched out on your bed, hardly dressed, with tired and heavy limbs. 

You feel your face heat up at the compliment but try to push it down. Both of you agreed to keep it casual but he has a hard time doing that. You stopped trying to kick him out immediately after sex to avoid his “theories” about how women need to be held. Why let him tell you when he can just do it? 

“Helsinki likes men.” you counter. His words are sweet, but you don’t have much faith in him, seeing as he’s a divorcee of 5. 

“He’s not blind, is he?” Berlin bumps his nose against your jaw, trying to get more space to kiss your neck. 

The buzzing alarm throughout the house saves you from trying to come up with a reply. You both slip out from your bed, rooting around the discarded clothes on your floor and chair. 

“Is this a weapons drill?” You ask quietly slipping a blanket over your shoulders to protect from the night air. Berlin cocks his head to the side listening to the three repeating beeps. 

“Yes.” 

You grab the fake weapons from your dresser specifically for these drills. You pass the fake gun to Berlin hoping it will look similar to his weapon, keeping the knockoff rifle for yourself under your blanket. Berlin kisses the corner of your mouth before opening your door and leaving towards his room. You slip out and go the other way, closer to the outside door.

You arrive at the checkpoint third, beaten by Moscow and Dever. Sometimes you hear them sharing a late-night smoke so they were probably awake. Half a minute after you Berlin arrives and Oslo follows next. The Professor nods his approval and writes down everyone's reaction time. As the rest of the group filters outside, Berlin subtly nudges your arm when Tokyo and Rio arrive together with one fake weapon between them, even though their rooms are in different parts of the house. 

Nairobi is last, her sleep mask pushed to her forehead, lamenting about how early is it, how others need their beauty sleep, not her though. You hold out both of your blanket-covered arms for Nairobi and Tokyo to cozy up against the chill on the night air. You used the same blanket when there was an evening fire a few days ago so the thick smell of smoke covers any hint of your time with Berlin. 

“Moscow, Denver, Team Germany, and Oslo. Congratulations on your fast reaction time and the attention you paid in the lessons, you’re free to back to bed. Nairobi, Tokyo, Rio, Helsinki, please have a coffee or a snack and meet me in the classroom in 10 minutes.” 

You have a warm bed waiting for you, possible company included, so you shrug out of your blanket, letting the other two share it. You shiver in the cold air and pick up the weapon before retreating into the house. 

The sun is hazy and low in the sky, calling to the bugs in the grass to move and flit around. There’s no actual lesson, but the Professor is answering questions anyone may have. Small groups have broken out, Nairobi, Helsinki, and Oslo all bonding while smoking, the Professor and Moscow talking about some negotiating, while Rio, Denver, and Tokyo are playing a card game, one filled with slapping hands on the table, and accusing one another of cheating.

You and Berlin are moving slowly to the song playing out on someone's radio. It’s not out of the ordinary, Tokyo declines every time he offers her a dance, and Moscow has no worries about spinning you around to whatever is on the radio. You even try to dance with Nairobi sometimes, both taking dramatic steps, more focused on making others laugh than the proper form.

There's still a small space between both of your chests trying to show nothing is going on between you both. It's hard though when he had two fingers hooked into the belt loops of your pants to push and pull you with ease. The dance is only a simple box step, step forward, to the side, step back, and then to the other side, but you can feel his charisma and passion in every step.

“Take a look at team Germany.” The professor says, drawing more attention to your little dance. “A negotiation is much like a dance.”

You break out of his hold to sip your drink before moving back into the starting position. With a nod for Berlin, you take a step forward and he gently pulls you in the same direction. You keep dancing, steps more slow and exaggerated for the demonstration, while he counts, a smooth repetition of one, two, three, four so the group can see the movements.

“Now…who is leading?” The Professor asks, the back end of his pen pointed at you both. Answers are overlapped, with no one strongly holding any opinion.

“Why would you say Vienna, Denver?” The Professor prompts, try to get someone to reach the answer before he needs to explain it.

“Vienna moves first, and steps forward. They’re leading.” Denver says. You can see Rio nod in agreement.

“No, it’s Berlin. Watch how he leads, helping Vienna follow.” Moscow points out.

“Yes, exactly. In a negotiation, it will be much the same. On the outside, it will look like the police are leading, and we are following. But actually…” The professor trails off, watching Team Germany dance.

You see Berlin raise his eyebrows, silently gesturing that he wants to spin you. You quickly nod, and at the start of the count, he pulls you close before pushing away. You spin away under his arm before turning back to the original dance position.

“We’re in control.”

You’re not sure if the hoots and claps from the table are for Berlin and you or the plan. You hope it's for both.

The fourth time you’re called Team Germany neither of you are around to see it.

“I think you look hot.” you tell Tokyo, sitting on her bed, watching her and Nairobi as they make last-minute adjustments to their outfits for the festival.

“You should come!” Nairobi begs you, holding out her hands to help you off the bed as if the only thing stopping you from joining is being stuck in place. You accept her help and allow her to pull you to a standing position.

“If I didn’t have a medical lesson with the Professor tomorrow, I would.”

“Oooo, sounds hot, are you going to study anatomy?” Nairobi teases. You know about how sexy she finds the Professor, something you can’t judge her for.

“No, it’s going over every medical misfire that can happen. Berlin and Helsi are going to be there too.”

You can’t tell if the look Tokyo is shooting at you is strange or if she's drunk. You don’t get the chance to ask her before Rio and Denver come crashing in.

“This is pure elegance, my friend.” Denver announces, dancing in his jacket, while everyone crowds around him.

“What the fuck! Is this Berlins?” Nairobi asks. You know it is but you don’t have a good reason to know so you let the others figure it out themselves. “He’s going to fucking kill you.”

Denver's cries of reassurance are drowned out by Tokyo shushing him and encouraging the group to get moving. In the corridor, everyone lowers their volume.

“Have fun! Be safe! Drink lots of water!” you wish Nairobi and Tokyo as they give you an over-friendly kiss fueled with alcohol. You try to wipe off the excess lipstick before giving up. Denver and Nairobi walk you back to your room on their way out, Tokyo and Rio getting something they forgot back in Tokyo's room.

Outside waiting with a cigarette, Denver reaches into the pocket of Berlin's coat and quickly retracts his hand.

“What's wrong? Cut yourself on one of his five previous wedding rings?” Nairobi asks, setting her cigarette aside to see what hurt Denver. More casually, he reaches into the pocket and pulls out a few items of jewelry. Laying them flat in his palm, he holds them up for Nairobi to examine.

“Holy shit! Those are Vienna’s.”

“Why does Berlin have them?”

“It’s fucking obvious, team Germany is fucking!”

“Who’s fucking?” Tokyo asks, arriving with Rio in tow, a few smears of lipstick around his mouth.

“Vienna and Berlin! Look!”

“What should we do? Tell the Professour?” Rio asks, surprised at the discovery. He missed all the signs from the past months that something was happening right under his nose.

“No! This is the perfect get-out-of-jail-free card.” Tokyo offers

“Tokyo you’re late to class” Nairobi says imitating the professor before using her regular voice “Well, team Germany is sleeping together!”

“No one says a word about this. We need to wait for the right time.” Tokyo says. She knows she and Rio won’t be hidden forever. But the leader and the medical expert sleeping together? That’s ammunition she can’t wait to use.

[81buttons]

I Shouldn't Have Met You

La Casa de Papel/ Money Heist

Sergio Marquina / El Profesor x OC

Summary : After the heist, after Berlin's death, Sergio and you decide to live together. However, this turns out to be more complicated than expected.

Warnings: character death in the past, pregnant reader, angst, and a bit of fluff.

———————————————————————

You collapse, the weight is too heavy, your knees buckle. The pain is so intense you scream in agony. You cry out, hoping to stop this massacre, you scream until you have no air left to breathe. You reach out towards his body, the red suit half-destroyed, and you see his face and his lifeless eyes.

"NOOOO!!" you wake up with this word in your mouth. No, it wasn’t possible. No, no, no, it must have been a nightmare. Indeed, it was a bad dream, but one based on elements that actually happened.

Andrés was dead.

You heard the door burst open, and Sergio rushed in, out of breath, holding a pistol, terrified. It wasn’t his nature to use weapons; he rarely did, only when necessary. But becoming the most wanted man in Spain, perhaps in Europe, left him no choice but to get a weapon. Hearing you scream in the dead of night was reason enough for him to pull that pistol from its hiding place.

"I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it was a bad dream, I’m sorry," you said, breathless.

Sergio finally relaxed, though his heart started pounding again when he saw you crying. He approached your bed and sat on the edge, taking you in his arms.

"I’m sorry, sorry…" you kept repeating, sobbing, beginning to cry harder. Sergio held you tighter, quickly checking your arms and head to see if you were hurt.

You were a mess. Then again, he was a mess too after his brother's death, but he wasn’t pregnant with the man he loved and hadn’t watched him die in front of his eyes. Thank God he hadn’t seen his brother's face; he wouldn't have been able to sleep either… he wouldn't have been able to live.

You and Sergio had known each other for years. Since childhood, in fact. You were neighbors, and you quickly grew close, even though you didn’t share the same interests. Sergio was a very shy child, spoke little, read a lot, and was often alone. You were always energetic, had two brothers, and stood up for yourself. You were the one who made the first move. You couldn’t understand how someone could stay cooped up at home reading when the weather was so beautiful outside. After some insistence from your mother, you rang his doorbell, asking if he wanted to play at the park with you. And that’s where it all began. From that moment, you were convinced your life changed.

If you hadn’t met Sergio, you wouldn’t have discovered a love for reading. If you hadn’t met Sergio, you wouldn’t have become best friends. If you hadn’t met Sergio, you might have crumbled after your mother’s death. If you hadn’t met Sergio, you wouldn’t have had your first kiss with him. If you hadn’t met Sergio, you wouldn’t have had the courage to leave your abusive father for good.

Indeed, your life changed after meeting him. If you hadn’t met Sergio, you wouldn’t have joined the heist. If you hadn’t met Sergio, you wouldn’t have met his brother and fallen in love with him. If you hadn’t met Sergio, you wouldn’t be carrying the child of the man you love, but you wouldn’t have seen him die in front of your eyes either. So yes, for you, a meeting can change a life.

"Try to go back to sleep," he whispered in your ear after you calmed down a bit.

"I can’t, if I sleep, if I sleep, I see him," you paused for a moment, "and I don’t want to, not like that," you said, trying to stifle a sob.

"Do you want me to stay for a while?" he asked, not even sure what he was offering. "Until you fall asleep."

You hesitated for a moment, but deep down you knew you couldn’t refuse, you didn’t want to refuse.

"Please," you replied.

Sergio lay down next to you, a protective arm still around your shoulders. Slowly, you closed your eyes.

Sergio couldn’t. Not with you beside him. Not the "you" his best friend he grew up with. No, the new “you", the one who was his brother’s wife.

He couldn’t sleep next to this “you”. Not with the you who was pregnant. And certainly not with the you he had fallen madly in love with over the past few months. No, he couldn’t.

It was wrong, wasn’t it? Being attracted to you wasn’t part of his plan when he offered to have you live with him on this island, to help you with the pregnancy, with the child.

After all, you were right.

If you hadn’t met Sergio… you wouldn’t have fallen in love with each other… especially in this situation.

[bumblesimagines]

Silene Oliveira/Tokyo

been a long time since i last saw you.

this reminds me of the night we met.

don't flirt with me. 

been a long time since i last saw you.

this reminds me of the night we met.

don't flirt with me. 

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

Toledo was a beautiful city, not that you'd been given much of a chance to get acquainted with it before being hauled up to a large remote house per The Professor's instructions. But the scenery was beautiful, at least. The view atop the hill allowed for the perfect view of the setting sun, made all the better with beer and the distant sound of music playing from the patio. A perfect evening and a perfect view... ruined by a voice that made your heart clench with bitterness. 

"Been a long time since I last saw you." Her light, airy, far too casual voice reached your ears. Your muscles automatically tensed, fingers tightening around your bottle, and the serenity of the view promptly faded. You bit your tongue and raised the bottle to your lips, finishing the contents and hoping the effects would soothe your mind. "(Y/N)- Or, well... It's Athens now, right? I guess I should get used to that name before the heist."

You stared straight forward, unable to bear the thought of looking at her without wanting to walk out of the whole operation. A face you once loved seeing, muddled with her actions and memories you'd rather forget. She was a reminder of the person who'd truly broken your heart and trust: René. The man who picked you up from juvie and promised to never abandon you like your parents had. The man who taught you everything you needed to know about heists, about guns, and thievery. The man you looked up to dearly and spilled everything to. The man who slept with your girlfriend nearly fifteen years ago. The man who'd been gunned down in the street only a couple weeks prior. Your brother, your confidant, your partner in crime, and the most disgusting man you'd ever known. 

You still remembered that morning when you returned from a night out with friends, hungover as hell but alert enough to notice the scattered beer bottles on the table, the lack of chatter in the small rented apartment, and best of all, the sight of seventeen-year-old Silene in the arms of thirty-one-year old René. You would've found the surprise and horrified looks on their faces humorous if it hadn't been for the betrayal you felt. Half of the morning was spent arguing with René while Silene cried uncontrollably until you grabbed a few things and got into your car, speeding off down the street and never seeing either of them ever again. 

You hardly mourned René when you saw his corpse and face on the news the day of his death. To you, he'd been dead since that fateful day. And you would've moved on, would've finally found some real peace at last, if The Professor hadn't sat beside you at the park a few days later while you watched your kid run around with his friends and offered you a job; A heist that'd leave you with more than enough euros to never work or be apart from your son ever again. Enough money to send him off to college, to find a nice place to settle down, and to live out the rest of your years doing whatever you wanted without having to worry about being arrested during 'work'. 

"This reminds me of the night we met." Silene - No, the code names were necessary, she'd been right in that regard - Tokyo said, her finger dragging down your bicep. You rolled your shoulder to shrug her off, huffing out a soft scoff. "You remember that night? They wouldn't let me into the bar 'cause I was a kid but then you and René vouched-"

"We helped you, got you a fake id, let you stay with us when you had an argument with your mom, and the week after you said you loved me, you fucked my brother and now left him for dead. Don't pretend things between us are fine, Tokyo. Don't flirt with me. Don't talk to me like we're old friends. We're strangers. Nothing more, nothing less. If you're that desperate for dick then maybe go hop on Rio or Denver's." You sneered at her, brushing past her with another scoff and making your way back to the party, back to the rest of your colleagues and away from the woman who'd ruined your life.

[wingeddonut45]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Berlin x reader

Word count : 1513 words

Genre : fluff

Summary : you have a nightmare and your secret boyfriend unexpectedly comes to comfort you

You weren’t the type who would get scared easily. While most people were afraid of tight spaces , heights , flying or sharks , you didn’t have any particular fears and this is what made you a great thief . You had the courage to put in action the craziest heists ever imagined. The escapes full of adrenaline , the plans that a normal person would call ‘unachievable’ and the unexpected situations were all fuelled by your fearless personality. Yet, you found yourself tossing around the bed , desperately searching for air and kicking the mattress in an attempt to set you free from the state you were in.

It was clear as ice by now. You were having a nightmare, an awful one that seemed to crumble all your sense of reality. The type that wouldn’t let you pierce the thin layer between dreaming and your factual life , trapping you in an endless void of fear and worry. Suddenly, you were again in your childhood town , the one that brought you so many memories. You walked past the colorful blocks that had a certain aura you couldn’t possibly explain. The joyful streets always buzzing with life were just like you had left them in your kid mind. The old shops that sold all kinds of sweets and toys became more vibrant , almost luring you into them. It was all like you remembered it. Even your childhood friends, who seemed not to have grown up. A weird sense of nostalgia filled all your body and pushed you into exploring further this familiar space. But then , you turned around . And you saw a black figure, standing at an astonishing hight of 7 feet tall. You didn’t think twice, you knew you had to run. All those colors were fading away, the figure’s presence igniting a sense of fear. However, it was running much faster than you , its appearance overwhelming. In less than a few minutes, you were violently caught in a pair of big arms that belonged to that creature. You could see it much better close. It was made out of black matter, its body a void that was probably stretching to the center of the universe. It didn’t have a particular face either, which made your fear grow even more. You had no time to learn its features, as it quickly enveloped you in its void , leaving you seeing all black.

That was the moment when you woke up with a jerk and a slight scream, this time in the Toledo house, again in your bed. You anxiously analysed your surroundings. For some reason , the light was on , even though you remembered very clearly that you turned it off before going to bed , which made your concern grow even more. That’s when you realised you had someone’s hands on your shoulders. As the image of the nightmare flew in again, you backed off in fear, you gaze locked on the sheets . When you gathered the courage to look at who it was, you froze. This time it wasn’t fear, it was surprise and a slight embarrassment. It was Berlin, your boyfriend. You started dating in secret only one week ago. It was all just starting and you wanted to make a good impression, not look like a complete weird coward. But the thing was you needed that comfort and you needed him. So his reaction to all this was your resort.

“I-I…” You tried speaking, but nothing came out of your mouth. You were nervous about his response and that put a lump in your throat . You didn’t know what you should start with in this situation and the nightmare you experienced earlier did not help either . But his reply was certainly something you didn’t expect.

“Can I touch you?” At first , you didn’t understand why he would ask that. Then, given your reaction from earlier when you woke up, you came to the conclusion that he wanted to give you space and not push you, which you appreciated.

“Yes, please.” You nod your head, the last part coming in a chocked whisper. That made Berlin’s heart sink even more for you. With that, he slowly moved closer to you, his frame leaning on the wall for support as he gently placed you on his lap, your head on his chest and his hand cupping the side of your face.

“It’s okay, shh, it’s okay. I’m here hermosa. You’re safe.” He placed a kiss on the top of your forehead and lingered there for a few more seconds. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”He slowly caressed your hair, whispering in your ear. You nuzzled into his chest, a feeling of safety washing over you. That little action made Berlin’s heart shake a bit as he tightened his grip on you. “I’m not leaving you. Shh, just let yourself relax, okay?”

“Thank you for all this.” You now managed to say as you calmed down a little. The truth was you never had that kind of comfort from a lover before and getting it now made you sink even more in that state of safety.

“Oh cariño, you don’t have to thank me. I’ll always be by your side whenever you need me.” His reassurance replaced the embarrassment from earlier with a feeling of ease. “You haven’t had this kind of comfort , have you?”

“No, it’s true, I haven’t.” He tilted your chin up so you could face him , his gaze intense and sincere. A small smile curled on his lips as he let out a chuckle.

“Then you haven’t been with a real man sweetie . You’ve been with nothing more but an imature boy. And believe me when I say this, a woman like you should never be treated with anything less than respect , kindness and support. So next time you have a nightmare, don’t ever feel embarrassed to wake me up. I’ll listen to anything you have to say” He spoke from the bottom of his heart and his words meant a lot, especially given the situation.

“But how did you know I had a nightmare? I found you in my room.” You asked, simply curious about his response, because a boyfriend like him turned out to be full of surprises.

“As you may know, I’m a painter and inspiration tends to strike at night, so often I have to give in to my artistic side. Since our rooms are one in front of the other, I can hear everything. And when the sound of you tossing around and whimpering crossed my ears I knew something was off. So, I came here and I woke you up.” His explanation was certainly unexpected, but you were glad it happened this way.

“But why did you come? You could have continued your activities and leave me here to deal with my problems. They aren’t yours, so I don’t wanna bother you with them.”

“Hey, what kind of gentleman would I be if I would leave you like this? It broke my heart to hear you screaming in fear . It touched something inside me that I didn’t even know about. Something that pushed me into coming to comfort you without even thinking. You’re special for me, and I don’t let my loved ones down. Never.” He paused for a few minutes, then he launched a spontaneous question. “What did you dream about? Of course, only if you want to talk about it.”

“I’m not really comfortable with this, but all I can say is that it was a weird and scary dream.” You say in a shaky voice, your eyes almost tearing up at the mention of the dream. Berlin saw that and he quickly moved his hand to wipe your tears.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. Just stay here for now.” With that, he secured you into his arms and he moved one hand to hold your waist as the other cupped your face. “Try resting, you deserve it. Tomorrow it’ll be a tiring day, the professor is going to teach us about the hostages. Sleep well , my precious little princess.” He kissed the top of your forehead and he lingered there for a few seconds before he gently supported his head over yours. “I’ll be here all night for you. And if any of your nightmares dare to bother you, they’ll have to fight me. I’m your night knight after all.” You could hear the smile on his lips while saying that. For the first time in the last hour, you felt truly safe. You tightened your grip on his torso, which made him hold you as if you were disappearing. You melted in that embrace and you finally relaxed. Berlin waited for you to fall asleep first, like a real gentleman. Then, he whispered in your ear , his tone sleepy.

“I love you.” After that, he also fell asleep, occasionally mumbling love words in spanish .

[sweetandabitspycho]

Okay so people this is the new writing list as always it probably won't be do in order. Feel free to request.

Masterlist

D.P. An jun-ho x reader smut

Grimm Sean x F! Reader part 1

Grimm Sean x F!Reader part2

Supernatural smuts

Hawaii five-o Steve x Reader

Hawaii five-o Adam x Reader

Hawaii five-o HCs for dating

Fast and Furious Dom x Reader

Fast and Furious Jakob x Reader

My Name x Reader HCs nsfw

Money Heist Denver X Reader

Jang-jun smut please smut

Vincenzo Cassano smut

Probably more request I forgot about but I'll add them when I find them

[jalicefanficblog]

Love is in the Air! Money Heist Boys at Valentines Day Berlin, the Professor, Helsinki, Palermo and Rio

Berlin

He is a real gentleman and surprises his partner with a bouquet of red roses on the morning of Valentine's Day, followed by a mysterious envelope containing - after Berlin has demanded a kiss, of course - theater tickets for a play that you both really enjoy seeing. Lounge seats, of course. Throughout the day, Berlin gives you his undivided attention and almost possessively puts his arm around you, holds your hand or gives you a kiss on the cheek. It is, after all, the day of lovers and what better excuse, than this to show the entire country of Spain, that you belong to him… and he belongs to you!

The Professor

Does the smartest professor in all of Spain have a schedule that he planned weeks in advance for the day of lovers? YES! If there's one thing you can be sure of, it's that Sergio is not only a man with an eye for detail, but also puts a lot of planning into a plan. He has spent the last few weeks asking you about your preferences in books, trips, food and even whether you are allergic to bee stings. The way you spend this special day is surprising, though… because Sergio has chosen a walk for you in a nature reserve, near Barcelona and, as proof of his love, has not only made you a bee out of origami paper, but also bought you a beehive box… so that you are the queen of a small kingdom full of hard-working people. When you kiss and hold hands in front of the beehive at sunset, it makes Valentine's Day perfect (and of course, after this kiss, Sergio has prepared a picnic… with everything that goes with it!)

Helsinki

The man with the big heart and a war-torn past? How does he prepare for Valentine's Day with the person who holds the key to his heart? He wakes his partner up with breakfast in bed, which he prepared himself, and his face beams as he says a few caressing words in Serbian… you, who now understand, because love doesn't just go through the stomach, it also helps you overcome language problems. All the pet names he gave you in his mother tongue make your heart beat faster every time… but the slightly burnt breakfast (Helsinki's cooking skills are a bit… rusty) - puts a smile on your face and you kiss each other before you spend the day in bed, feeding each other breakfast - which turns into brunch later in the day thanks to Uber Eats! - and watching cheesy romantic films on TV. You enjoy this relaxed togetherness on Valentine's Day.

Palermo

Is the engineer just as much of an annoying asshole on Valentine's Day as he is on any other day of the year? Yes and no. Martin loves Valentine's Day, it's just that his relationships aren't always the most stable in this regard, which is why he's surprised that you haven't already left when he wakes up in bed next to you that morning, more clueless than motivated…aaaand then panics because oh shit, it's unbelievable that you put up with him for so long. And then he drives to the nearest gas station to…at least make a little effort (this man lacks positive experiences in relationships and affection) - so he buys cheap, overpriced roses, chocolate, alcohol and a 'cuddle film for adults' - and surprises you with freshly brewed coffee in bed. He's not the perfect Valentine's Day activity, but hey, he spent a lot of euros at a gas station and you haven't run away screaming yet?! Could be something Palermo could get used to…possibly.

Rio

The youngest of the group is in many ways - to quote Tokyo - more like a toddler…..but Rio has watched enough illegal films on illegal websites in his life , to have an idea that Valentine's Day is a day to be extra special with your partner….which in this case is you and when he picks you up from work after an early finish with a bouquet of roses and a small teddy bear that says - Mi Amore - you can't help but throw your arms around him with a smile, hug him tightly and give Rio a kiss on the mouth for his efforts and the nice surprise before you take the roses and yourself and place the small teddy bear in your handbag. Your free hand reaches for your boyfriend's and Rio tells you what he has planned for the rest of the day….a romantic walk through the park, then a trip downtown to share a Love is in the Air ice cream sundae and then a date for a romantic film at the cinema. Everything is on him and he pays for it, of course, and finally he found out on the internet, that there is a very old photo booth in Madrid…you could take some couple photos there in funny poses and with kisses, of course! And to you, this plan sounds perfect…as perfect as your first Valentine's Day can be!

[darthgloris]

If things had gone differently

Pairing: bi!Palermo x fem!bi!reader

A/N: this was quite a request, @tzkyo, thank you! This is a really interesting plot that is very likely to make me cry while writing it but I love it! You're very creative, hope you get more ideas like this for me to write ❤❤

Summary (@tzkyo 's courtesy, everyone 😉): Y/N (aka Recife) is completely and utterly in love with Palermo, even if all this time he loved Berlín. After his love interest died, he was torn apart from grief, while Y/N did her best to comfort him in hopes of one day winning his heart. During the heist, he breaks her heart in the most cruel and painful way possible, but regrets it when things start getting ugly.

Warnings: SPOILERS, violence, death, angsty af, heartbreak

€€€

I hated them.

I hated them both.

Actually, that's not true. I loved them both.

But I hated the way they looked at each other.

I hated the way they acted together.

I knew I shouldn't. I knew it was wrong to act like this, but I didn't care. I'd been going through this shit every single day for 10 years. Watching the love of my life Palermo being so kind, so sweet, so fun, being himself with Berlín, and then turning to me with a cold shoulder. Of course, he'd be sweet and kind to me as well, but when he was with the love of his life he was a whole different person. And it bothered me so much that that version of Palermo was the real him. Berlín brought out the best in him, certainly. He brought out the fun, sunny, Golden Retriever-like side of him. But he started neglecting me for it.

Damn him. Damn him and his perfect plans and his perfect brains and his perfect fucking smile. How could I be so in love with him? He was impossible, he was selfish, he had countless of flaws, but when you truly love someone, that doesn't matter. And his happiness mattered to me as well, so I let him be with Berlín and tried not to get in the middle.

And then, in the heist at the Royal Mint, he died. That was really impossible to see. The only difference between what hurt him before was that this time it impacted me as well. Berlín was the one who stole Palermo's heart, and he was quicker than me in doing so, but he was still a really good friend to me, almost a brother. He was used to giving me lots of attention, and that made Palermo's blood boil. That was probably why he was so cold to me.

A few months after Berlín passed, I was called by my ex-partner-in-crime Nairobi to join her and Helsinki in their life of partying and joy. I had missed her very, very much and couldn't wait to clear my mind from the hopeless, dead-end chase after Palermo in the lovely landscapes of Argentina.

A little less than a year later, love played its dirty game once again. Rio got captured and was taken to Algeria for interrogation and torture. That was what brought us all back together. But if there was something I wasn't ready for was meeting Palermo again.

Our reunion was certainly heartfelt and tearful. After all this time of grieving on his own, he felt incredibly alone and couldn't deny that he missed me, even if my advances sometimes bothered him.

...

During the heist

Palermo was acting weird. Very weird. He wasn't looking at me at all, he didn't even bother to look me in the eyes. To others, he talked normally, but to me, he just gave orders as if I meant to him as much as the next person. I've done everything for him: I spent my time helping him when he was blinded when I could have been doing much more useful stuff, I supported him when no one did, I covered him during battle. Hell, I've known him for years, why would he be acting like this?

And then it occurred to me. Why don't I ask him myself?

On the way to look for him, I bumped into Nairobi, who grabbed my arm gently and pulled me away to somewhere more private.

"Recife, where were you going?" She asked carefully.

"I'm just looking for Palermo, why?"

I sighed in exasperation. "Cariño, when are you going to realise you're too good for him? Have you seen how he treats you? You don't deserve that shit. You deserve someone who treats you like the wonderful person that you are. I know you love him, and I know you have for a very long time, but how did you endure all those years of watching him with Berlín and then having him push you away? He's not good enough for you. If he doesn't respond to your advances, it's not your problem, it's his, because he can't see the person in front of him for how she really is."

"Look, I know he can be a really shitty person, but he wasn’t always like this, okay? Before Berlín came around he was sweet, fun, caring. He used to show me so much affection, so much care, and when the guy showed up, he started following him like a puppy."

"He might have been like that before, Recife, but he's not anymore. People change, and sometimes for the worst. Even the inspector in charge now would be able to treat you better than this. And she's been torturing Rio for weeks."

"I'll never know what's going on with him if I don't ask him, will I?"

Nairobi sighed and placed a hand over her cheek, thinking. "You're so stubborn. Now go on, lover girl, before you miss your chance."

I gave her a strong hug and hurried off to find him. After a bit of wandering in the Bank of Spain, I found him in the library with a bunch of hostages and a couple of crew members. This was going to be difficult.

"Palermo!" I called him, and he stopped for a moment, but chose to ignore me and kept walking.

"Hey, Palermo." I grabbed his arm and forced him to look me in the eyes. "Um, could we talk? Alone, please?"

"No. Whatever you have to say, you can say here." He replied coldly, making my jaw clench.

"Fine." I rolled my eyes. "Could you please tell me why you've been treating me like trash since we got here? You're acting really weird, and you're not the Palermo I know, because that guy was loving, and cared about me, even if I was just a friend to him. But now... now you're just a jerk who thinks that he can push me around because I have feelings for him. I miss you, Palermo. The real you."

When I noticed how his fists were closed and his face was red, I got scared. Knowing him, he was going to lash out. "Don't give me that shit, Recife. Do you have any idea how much I suffered when Andrès died!? Does your teeny little brain even begin to comprehend what I went through when you left me alone to follow your little friends to Argentina!? You can't blame me, you can only blame yourself!"

In the middle of all that yelling, Nairobi came in I she almost heard her heart cracking at the scene. I teared up at the harsh words he was throwing at me without any regret, and my friend tried to walk up to me.

"Palermo, shut up! Can't you see she's crying?! Leave her alone!" She defended me.

"Why should I care if she's crying?!" He turned his attention back to me. "Are you still here, Recife? Go on, get out! Leave! Stay the hell away from me!"

I tried not to break down in front of everyone and ran out of the room. I could hear their voices arguing from inside.

"Why did you have to do that, you selfish piece of shit? All she has ever done is care for you and give you the love that not even Berlín gave you and you just break her like that?! Are you crazy?! Do you really think you're in the position to break someone's heart? You? I saw what she went through..."

I zoned the voices out and broke down on the floor, my cries echoing through the corridors. I couldn’t believe he did that to me. Maybe it was better like this. It may be better for both of us.

What he had said really hit a spot. Sometimes I regretted leaving him, but I thought it was for the best. The Palermo I remembered would have never rubbed that in my face. He wouldn't have said any of those things, he would've rejected me gently. And still treat me like a friend.

I leaned my head on the wall and hugged my knees to her chest, sobbing uncontrollably. I heard the door open and someone sat down next to me. Her hand started rubbing circles on my back.

"I gave him a piece of my mind. I couldn’t let him hurt you like this." She said and I leaned my head on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, cariño. Really."

"You know what the worst part is? If he hadn't changed, if he hadn't started pushing me away for someone else, that version of him would have never done this. I loved Berlín, but he turned him into this... this person I've never seen before..."

Nairobi sighed and clutched me to her chest. "You don't deserve that. Now, why don't you spend the rest of the heist with me, hmm? Get away from all of this for a while. You'll stay at the furnace with me, Bogotá and Denver and we'll take care of you, okay? You know that those guys never fail to put a smile on our faces."

I chuckled. "Okay. Let's go."

...

When they got downstairs, Denver rushed over to me while Nairobi went to talk to the others. "Hey, Recife, what happened? Who did this to you? You give me a name and I'll rip their face off-"

"No, no, no, please don't rip any faces off! It was Palermo. He ripped my heart out, threw it on the ground and walked all over it."

"I have to go, someone is in the need of a beating." He said jokingly. "Hey, listen to me. He's not worth it. If he can't see what a wonderful human being he could have been with, he's not good enough. And it's not all bad. You did a really brave thing, telling him everything you felt to his face. That's a courage he lacks completely, because he doesn't have any balls or dignity. Would you have been with a guy that didn't have dignity or a functioning pair of testicles? Of course not!" I laughed and smiled at him. "There we go, that's much better!" Denver picked me up in his arms and swung me up and down. "Recife! Recife! Recife!" He chanted and I laughed, hugging him.

He put me down and Bogotá approached her. "He's right, kid. Don't let anyone walk all over you. You're too good for that." He pinched my cheek affectionately and I smiled, hugging him as well.

I was going to be better off like this after all.

...

Meanwhile, more days passed and seeing Palermo hurt a little bit every time, but being with people who really cared about me and loved me for who I am made me feel much, much better. I managed to get much closer with the boys, that being Matías, Bogotá and Denver. It was great, they were fun, they were interesting, and they were good people. And Nairobi encouraging me made me feel so happy inside, to finally have someone who truly cared for me.

But I was about to get the harshest reality check I could have ever gotten.

Alicia Sierra had managed to get in contact with Nairobi and manipulate her through her son. First she left her the boy's teddy bear, which contained a phone. I got worried when Nairobi accepted a call from the Inspectora. She started telling her that Axel was with her, and when Nairobi didn't believe her, she put him on the phone. Then she took him outside, encouraging her to look out the window. I felt something was off, until I realised what Sierra was doing.

"It's a trap! Nairobi, get away from there!" I yelled and without wasting a beat, I pushed her out of the way.

The sniper bullet cut through the air as if it was a hot knife cutting butter. Then I felt a pain in my chest and gasped in shock, but almost choked on the blood I was spitting. My hearing faded out and my eyesight blurred, but I could make out Nairobi's voice desperately calling my name and asking for help. I saw a few blurry figures, of which I only recognised Estocolmo and Nairobi, but I also tuned out a voice of which I couldn't forget the presence: Palermo. I could distinctly hear his anguished yells and cries as he tried to pick me up and bring me somewhere else. I wished I could hear what he was saying to me, but I lost consciousness shortly after.

...

*Palermo's POV*

She's shot.

She's shot. She's shot. She's shot.

I couldn’t calm my nerves as I paced back and forth, holding back my tears. Recife just got shot. I couldn’t believe what happened. Her life was on the line, likely because of me. I don't know why I broke her heart like that, I should have done anything else but that! And now she was lying on that cart, a step away from death.

"Somebody do something, carajo!" I cursed. "Anything you can! An anesthesia, a bandage, anything, just don't let her die!"

I heard Nairobi mutter something, but I didn’t have the energy to care. My best friend was dying, the very best friend that never stopped loving me even when I treated her like trash. She was brave and smart and intelligent and never failed to put a smile on my face. I wish things had gone differently, maybe if they had she wouldn’t be here like this.

"Okay, she's stable." Tokio said, making me breathe a sigh of relief. "She's in a coma and we don't know how long it will be until she wakes up, so she's going to need constant monitoring and observation, if we leave her alone like this and something happens, we're screwed."

"I'll stay with her," I volunteered immediately. "The rest of you go down to the furnace, we're almost there."

"Finally getting some common sense into that thick skull of yours, eh, Palermo?" Nairobi asked, her voice lacking humour completely.

"Why don't you mind your business, Nairobi? You still have a job to finish," I countered. I needed to be alone with Y/N now.

She just rolled her eyes. "Fine. Now come on, we need to move her somewhere safer."

...

We took her upstairs carefully and the others left to go back to their jobs. Finally, a moment alone with her. I sat down next to her and grabbed her hand gently, interlocking my fingers with hers.

"I don't know if you can hear me, corazón," I started. "But I need you to know how sorry I am for treating you like that. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I was really overrun by grief and you remind me so much of him... but I don't want to talk about him. I'm so sorry you're going through this... I should have protected you, goddamn it! You've always stuck with me, you've been so patient, so kind, so sweet, waiting for me to treat you the way I did before. And guess what? To get me to remember you, you had to get shot. God, I'm so stupid! You're right, I have changed, but you had to pay the consequences while it should have been me..." a few tears started rolling down my cheeks. "Please give me a chance to fix this once you get better. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I lost such an important person in my life."

I rested my forehead on my other hand and cried shamelessly. "My God, I don’t know what to do with myself if I lose you. I already lost someone important, I already lost someone I loved. Please don't be next. Hold on, honey. You hold on and when we get out here I'm going to buy us an island off of the coasts of Japan, your favorite place, and then I'm going to marry you. We'll live on the island all alone, just us, where nobody can bother us. We'll have sushi every weekend and mochi whenever you want, the ice cream ones, just like you like them. And after a few years, I'll fill that pretty stomach of yours with lovely children, and we'll live the best life we could ever get."

I did the best I could to paint her that picture, hoping she could hear me. I want to do all of these things and more. I want to kiss her forever, then go to Japan and marry her and live the rest of our lives together. I want to give her children, who'll hopefully get her personality and both our brains.

But what if she didn't make it?

I wanted all those things. I love her. I love her more than she thinks. She's going to make it. She has to. Otherwise, I might not be able to move on from her.

...

A few days passed and I spent every single day with her to apologise for everything I had done to her, to tell her about everything I loved about her and our future plans. I refused to leave her side, not while she was in this condition. My eyes hurt from crying and my back hurt from sitting in the chair; I hadn't eaten since she got shot, I only had water, and it wasn't my intention to leave anytime soon. Not even to eat. Not even to sleep.

...

I was sitting next to Y/N, my hand in hers, hoping for any sign of movement. Nothing. All of a sudden, her hand twitched and I almost jumped up from my seat. She was awake! She was here!

I couldn't hold back tears as she opened her eyes and shifted her head to the side to look at me. She eyed me up and down, her eyebrows furrowed. "You look terrible," she said honestly, making me laugh. Her life was on the line and she didn't even leave her sarcastic personality behind. God, this woman was amazing.

"I know," I laughed, stroking her face. "I've been sitting here for days hoping you'd wake up. Listen, I'm really sorry for treating you like that. And I don’t just mean last week. Everything I did to you. You were right, I've changed, and not entirely for the better. I pushed you away without being aware the value of your feelings for me, and when you got shot I finally realised what I should have a long time ago. What I'm trying to say is that I really love you. Please, please give me a chance to fix things. I owe it to you."

She smiled as she teared up as well, which made me hiccup in tears, only this time they were of joy.

"Yes. You can have one more chance." She said.

I gasped softly and tried not to shower her with physical affection as I knew she was hurt.

"What are you still waiting for, Martín? Kiss me, you fool," she joked.

"Are you sure? Because once I start, I might not be able to stop." I replied sincerely.

She gave a small nod and I leaned my face closer to hers. Then she moved her face upwards and met my lips in a soft kiss. I felt my stomach drop to my feet at the feeling of her soft lips on mine, her hand trying to run her fingers through my hair. I smiled in the kiss and felt more tears falling down my face, but I didn’t care. Finally, she was with me. And I wasn't willing to let her go.

...

I woke up to a lot of bustling in the room: the crew was running around and swarming over Recife's body, and their frantic muttering was mixed with the unstable beeping of her monitor.

Shit, the monitor!

"What's going on? Why isn't anyone doing anything?! She's dying, hurry!"

"Palermo, honey..." Nairobi started. "...we can't save her."

I noticed the tears pooling inside her eyes and I almost forgot how to breathe. She was serious.

"No! There has to be something we can do to help! Just anything- no, don't touch that!" I yelled at Denver who was about to detach her from the drugs. "Don't you dare give up! She'll live, I know she will. She's a survivor!"

"I know she is, Palermo, but we're just putting her through useless pain. She's gone, she was since the Inspectora refused to let in the surgical team. She's the only one with proper medical training, if anyone could have done anything, it would have been Recife herself."

"Screw it! Screw all of it! Come on, Nairobi, help me out, please! Please, Nairobi! I can't lose her!"

I saw the hurt and pity in her eyes as she opened her mouth to speak. "I'm sorry, but we-"

Our argument was cut off by the sound of the monitor flatlining.

"¡No! ¡Carajo!" I yelled and punched the wall in a futile attempt to let out my anger. "No! No! Don't leave, please! Please, Y/N!"

The others hugged each other in mourning, but I let nobody touch me. I was too late. She was dead. She was gone forever. No more wedding in Japan. No more sushi and mochi at the weekend. No more children.

I sobbed loudly and clutched her dead body to my chest. I still couldn't believe she was gone. I still couldn't believe that I let love slip through my fingers again.

...

Before her funeral, I stopped by to see her once more.

She was still there, her wound clean and her face relaxed. My heart swelled at the sight and my eyes filled with tears again. I sat down on the cart and pulled her to me, her upper body laying on my lap.

"I'm sorry for this, mi amor. I should have protected you. I love you so much, remember that."

My tears dropped on her face and it looked like she was crying as well, which made me cry harder. My body racked with sobs and I held her beautiful face in my hands as I started singing her favorite song.

"Con los pobres de la tierra

Quiero yo mi suerte hechar

Con los pobres de la tierra

Quiero yo mi suerte hechar

El arroyo de la sierra

Me complace más que el mar

El arroyo de la sierra

Me complace más que el mar

Guantanamera..."

My voice cracked and I couldn’t help but give a soft kiss on the lips.

"Goodbye, my beautiful."

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ cherry ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ berlin x hostage!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is a part one to this imagine, scarface!

˚ ༘♡ four trillion won.

˚ ༘♡ that was the amount they intended to steal, an unimaginable fortune. the audacity of their plan stunned you, even as you sat there in silence. you couldn’t understand why they hadn’t already taken the money and disappeared into the night. why target the korean mint, one of the most heavily secured institutions in the country, knowing full well that the highest figures in government and law enforcement would throw the full extent of their resources against them? it was only after you pressed your ear against the locked door of the conference room you were being held in that you learned the truth. two of the masked criminals spoke in hushed tones outside, unaware of your eavesdropping. they weren’t stealing money, they were printing it. trillions of won, created right there in the heart of the mint. they had turned the hostages into laborers for their grand design.

˚ ༘♡ the sheer boldness of their plan was breathtaking. how could they possibly believe they would escape unscathed with such a colossal operation? the more you thought about it, the more impossible it seemed, yet there you were, locked away in this quiet chamber while chaos reigned elsewhere in the building. the government had to be handling this delicately, you thought. surely, they were devising a plan to save you and the others. but doubt crept in. could even the most experienced strategists outmaneuver criminals who had taken control of the mint and were orchestrating a crime of this magnitude?

˚ ༘♡ time felt meaningless in the isolation of the room. the only sign that a day had passed was the clock mounted on the wall, its rhythmic ticking drilling into your ears. you hadn’t seen anyone since being brought here, hadn’t exchanged a word with a single soul. the only sounds were muffled voices from the floors below and the occasional shuffle of footsteps beyond the door.

˚ ༘♡ you sat on a velvet couch, its soft fabric a sinister comfort in this nightmare, staring blankly at the far wall. thoughts of your coworkers plagued your mind. you pictured their faces, their fear, their desperation. you knew they were suffering far worse than you, trapped in the thick of it while you were left here in this eerie silence. guilt gnawed at you, but so did dread. you wanted to believe the government would send in a rescue team, that the nightmare would end in a blaze of heroics. but you knew better. any such attempt could end in bloodshed, a massacre for everyone trapped inside the mint.

˚ ༘♡ the sharp metallic click of the door unlocking shattered the suffocating silence of the room, sending a jolt through your body. instinctively, you scrambled to your feet, adrenaline surging through your veins, but the moment your eyes landed on the figure stepping through the doorway, your legs nearly gave out beneath you. it was berlin.

˚ ༘♡ in spite of the hahoe mask obscuring most of his face, there was no mistaking him. you’d heard his voice, his threatening commands, his venomous tone bleeding through the walls. he wasn’t just another cog in this terrifying machine, he was at the heart of it, the one pulling strings inside the mint while another, someone they called the professor, directed the chaos from elsewhere. berlin wasn’t the kind of man you could reason with, his presence was a cold, oppressive force that turned your stomach to stone.

˚ ༘♡ he removed the mask slowly, revealing a face carved from ice. his expression was devoid of warmth, his eyes glinting with something darker than malice, a kind of calculated cruelty that made you feel like prey cornered by a predator. your breath caught in your throat as he slammed the door shut behind him, the sound reverberating like a death knell in the confined space.

˚ ༘♡ “did you miss me?” his voice was low, mocking, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t find your voice. your knees buckled, and you collapsed back onto the velvet sofa as he strode toward you with slow, measured steps, each one harsher, each one amplifying the dread pooling in your chest. his hand rested on the rifle slung over his shoulder.

˚ ༘♡ he stopped mere inches from you, so close that his legs brushed against your knees. the air between you felt suffocating, stagnant with peril. his shadow loomed over you and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look up at him.

˚ ༘♡ “get up,” he ordered, his tone cutting like a blade. “we’ve got work to do.”

˚ ༘♡ your body refused to move. whether it was fear or disbelief, you weren’t sure, but the hesitation sealed your fate. his hand shot out, clamping around your wrist with a grip that felt like iron. before you could even register the pain, he yanked you to your feet with such force that you stumbled into him, your heart pounding wildly as his dark eyes bore into yours. there was no mercy in that gaze, no humanity, only control.

˚ ༘♡ “what do you need me to do?” you asked, the words tumbling out in a whisper, trembling as if your voice alone might provoke him further.

˚ ༘♡ his response wasn’t immediate. instead, his lips curled into a cruel grin, one that made your blood run cold. he tilted his head slightly, studying you like a wolf savoring its next move. then, without warning, his hand shot up, his fingers wrapping around your neck.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t choke you, not fully, but his grip was aggresive, sending a clear message that any resistance would be futile. his thumb pressed against your pulse, a mocking acknowledgment of the fear coursing through you.

˚ ༘♡ “what i need,” he said, his voice a dangerous growl, “is for you to listen.”

˚ ༘♡ before you could respond, he pulled his pistol from its holster, the cold steel brushing against your forehead. your breath became erratic, and tears blurred your vision as terror consumed you. the gun pressed harder against your head, his finger resting lightly on the trigger. he didn’t speak, didn’t move, he simply held you there.

˚ ༘♡ the silence stretched into eternity, every second an excruciating reminder of how close you were to the edge of oblivion. then, as abruptly as he’d grabbed you, he released his hold.

˚ ༘♡ you stumbled back, crashing into the edge of the desk, the sharp corner digging into your spine. tears streaked down your cheeks, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you stared at him, your voice shaking with anger and desperation. “what kind of psycho are you?” you spat through the tears. “i’ve done everything you’ve asked. I haven’t disobeyed a single order!”

˚ ༘♡ his laugh was cold, abrupt, and vacant of humor. he holstered the pistol with a conscious indifference, his eyes never leaving yours. “i know,” he said, his voice ridden with disdain.

˚ ༘♡ he picked up the assault rifle with a practically casual motion, his cold gaze never departing you. the barrel of the gun rose slowly, aiming directly at your head. the air in the room thickened, suffocating, and the only sound was the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. your legs quivered beneath you as though the terror of his presence alone had crushed you. sliding to the floor, you tried to speak, to plead for mercy, but your lips trembled, and no sound came. the words dissolved into the air, swallowed by the apprehension that left you paralyzed.

˚ ༘♡ he placed his finger on the trigger, his expression unreadable, detached, like this was just another mundane task in a long list of crimes. you stared down the cold, unyielding barrel of the rifle, waiting for the inevitable. and then, gunfire. a deafening roar. your eyes slammed shut, and you flinched, the sound of bullets tearing into the wall behind you ricocheting in your skull. debris rained down, and your breath came in shallow, gasping bursts. when you opened your eyes, he was lowering the gun, his actions unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to terrify you.

˚ ༘♡ “rio, get in here,” he barked, his voice sharp and commanding, shattering the tense silence.

˚ ༘♡ you barely registered the door opening as your chest heaved, struggling to catch your breath. a younger man entered, casually carrying a camera setup as if he were walking into a studio rather than a hostage situation. rio, you guessed, from the name berlin had called. his demeanor was unnervingly lighthearted, a jarring contrast to the man who had just fired bullets inches from your head.

˚ ༘♡ berlin turned his attention back to you, his cold eyes piercing through you as he slowly stalked toward where you were curled up on the floor. his boots echoed against the hard surface, each step jarring. then, unexpectedly, he crouched down in front of you. he reached out, his gloved hand brushing against your trembling fingers before wiping away the tears streaking your face. the gesture was gentle, but it felt like he was taunting you.

˚ ༘♡ he tucked a stray lock of your disheveled hair behind your ear, tilting your chin up so you were forced to look at him. “i’m sorry,” he said softly, his tone laced with condescension and faint amusement. “but you looked far too proper. too polished. not the image of a convincing hostage.” his words sank into you like poison, cold and sharp, leaving you speechless.

˚ ༘♡ before you could respond, rio’s voice cut through the tension, cheerful and jarring. “don’t listen to him. berlin just likes torturing people.” his grin was wide, almost playful, but it didn’t reach his eyes. the casual cadence in his tone made you shudder.

˚ ༘♡ berlin shot rio a hard, withering glare that silenced him instantly. the mood in the room darkened, the tension coiling tighter as both men pulled on their hahoe masks. rio stepped forward, adjusting the camera, and handed you a crumpled piece of paper. your hands shook as you took it, the paper feeling heavier than it should have, as though the weight of whatever was written on it could crush you.

˚ ༘♡ “what is this?” you managed to whisper, your voice hoarse and shaking. your hair hung in messy strands around your face, your clothes rumpled and stained from where you’d slid to the floor, every inch of you a reflection of the chaos unraveling around you.

˚ ༘♡ rio positioned the camera with precision, angling it to focus solely on you. “when i say go,” he said with an unsettling lightness, “read it. and look at the camera. don’t mess it up.”

˚ ༘♡ you unfolded the paper with trembling hands, your tears smudging the ink as you tried to make sense of the scrawled words. your pulse thundered in your ears as you glanced between the two masked figures, their faces unreadable, their stillness oppressive.

˚ ༘♡ the camera’s red light blinked on. rio stepped back, folding his arms as berlin stood in the background, his rifle now resting at his side. “go,” rio said, his tone commanding despite the casualness of his earlier demeanor.

˚ ༘♡ the cold steel of berlin’s pistol pressed against your temple, leading you to freeze you in place. every nerve in your body screamed to move, to fight, but you couldn’t. his presence mounted over you, magnified by the hahoe mask concealing his expression. you could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, threatening to drown out the words you were about to speak.

˚ ༘♡ your lips parted and you forced yourself to read from the crumpled paper in your hand. “this is a message to the korean defense ministry,” you began, your voice thin and uneven. your hands shook, the paper rustling audibly in the tense silence. “the criminals have taken me, the daughter of the defense minister, hostage.” you paused, struggling to steady your breathing. the weight of berlin’s pistol and the red, unblinking eye of the camera intensified the unbearable dread coursing through you.

˚ ༘♡ “they order that no action should be taken in aiding local enforcement in the matter of the crisis in the mint.” your voice wavered, breaking slightly as you swallowed the lump in your throat. the next line felt like poison, each word lodging itself in your chest. “as if any mandate is given… the defense minister will never see his precious daughter again.”

˚ ༘♡ an agonizing silence followed, the tension in the air so thick it felt like it might crush you. rio, standing behind the camera, finally broke it with an unsettling grin. “i think that’s good,” he said, pulling off his mask, his tone disturbingly mirthful, as though you’d just finished rehearsing a scene for a school play.

˚ ༘♡ berlin followed suit, removing his mask with slow consideration. his face was as composed as ever, his expression unreadable, yet his eyes betrayed a faint trace of satisfaction. he slid the pistol back into its holster, the click of metal echoing in the small, intolerable space.

˚ ༘♡ “you did well,” berlin said, his voice calm but dripping with mockery. “almost brought a tear to my eye.” he paused. “when your father sees this video, I have no doubt he’ll abandon any foolish notions of sending reinforcements. wouldn’t want him making a mistake he’d regret for the rest of his life.”

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t speak. the words wouldn’t come even if you tried. your body felt limp, burdened by the fear coursing through you. your eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet his gaze, the humiliation and terror blending into a numbing haze.

˚ ༘♡ berlin exhaled sharply, clearly unimpressed by your lack of answer. “fine, don’t say anything,” he muttered. rio had already begun disassembling the camera, his relaxed efficiency grating against the gravity of what had just transpired. berlin turned to leave, but not before throwing one last barb your way.

˚ ༘♡ “i’ll send someone to bring you food later,” he said, his tone tranquil, as though he were discussing a room service order. “and stop acting so disturbed. i’ve already told you, you won’t get hurt unless your father does something idiotic.”

˚ ༘♡ his words hung in the air as he followed rio out of the room. the heavy door slammed shut behind them, and the sound of the lock sliding into place echoed ominously in the silence.

˚ ༘♡ you remained where you were, collapsed on the cold floor, your body trembling uncontrollably. your breath came in shallow gasps, each inhale feeling like it might rip your chest apart. the slip of paper dropped from your fingers, landing on the floor akin to a ghost of the words you’d spoken.

˚ ༘♡ your gaze drifted to the wall, where the faint outline of bullet holes from berlin’s earlier demonstration still lingered. it was a cruel reminder of how precarious your situation was, how fragile your life had become. you tried to gather your thoughts, to steady yourself, but the crushing reality of what you’d just done, what they’d made you do, settled over you akin to an inescapable gloom.

˚ ༘♡ the room was quiet now, but the cruelty of their threats, their presence, still lingered, suffocating and relentless. you were alone again, yet you could feel their eyes on you, even from beyond the locked door. the words you’d spoken would soon reach your father. whether they would save you or sentence you to death, you had no way of knowing. all you could do was wait and wonder how much further they’d push you before you shattered completely.

˚ ༘♡ another day dragged by, wretched with misery and isolation. the meal left for you was delivered not by berlin but by a masked woman, who you identified as nairobi. you only knew her name because the guard outside your door addressed her so casually, as if this nightmare was their mundane routine. the food sat untouched. the idea of eating felt almost laughable. hunger clawed at your stomach, but your appetite had long since been smothered by fear and despair.

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t sleep. even when you closed your eyes, the silence of the room became deafening, amplifying every creak, every muffled voice, every thought. it left you no escape, only an endless loop of dread. the hours blurred together, and though you tried to find some shred of humanity in fixing your tangled hair and wiping away the remnants of smeared makeup, it was futile. the mirror reflected not a person but a ghost of one.

˚ ༘♡ you thought, bitterly, that the solitude would break you long before anyone had the chance to pull a trigger. this room had become a prison in every sense, its walls closing in, your own mind a tormentor. it felt like time itself was disparaging you, dragging endlessly on.

˚ ༘♡ on what must have been the third day, something shattered the monotonous rhythm. the muffled voices on the floor below you grew louder, more agitated, their tones sharper and more frantic. you pressed your ear to the door, your pulse quickening as you tried to make out the words. and then, suddenly, a gunshot.

˚ ༘♡ the sound was deafening and raucous. you flinched violently, stumbling back from the door, your heart hammering so hard it felt as though it might burst. the echo of the shot reverberated through the building, and then, silence. ominous, oppressive silence.

˚ ༘♡ your mind raced. had someone been killed? one of the hostages? one of the criminals? your breath quickened, each inhale feeling more shallow than the last. you strained to hear anything beyond the stillness, but nothing came.

˚ ༘♡ minutes ticked by like hours before the sound of approaching footsteps outside your door made you freeze. the lock clicked, and the door creaked open. berlin stepped in, and the sight of him sent a surge of fear crashing over you.

˚ ༘♡ he looked different. the composed, almost smug demeanor he had worn like armor before was gone. sweat clung to his sun-tanned skin, and his dark hair was damp, strands clinging to his forehead. his movements were sharp, erratic, like a man barely keeping control of something volatile within himself.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t move,” he rasped, his voice rough, the edge of it sharper than you’d ever heard before.

˚ ༘♡ you stood motionless, your body locked in place as he strode toward you with purpose. without warning, his hand slid along your midriff and waist, his touch invasive and deliberate.

˚ ༘♡ “what are you doing?” you managed to ask, your voice trembling as his fingers moved down to your hips. the sensation made your skin crawl, a mixture of fear and indignation boiling inside you.

˚ ༘♡ “making sure you’re not carrying something you shouldn’t be,” he replied coldly, his eyes narrowing as they bored into yours. his gaze was darker than before, something dangerous simmering just beneath the surface. “one of your co-workers decided to do something moronic,” he continued, his tone flat yet menacing. “and that will be the first and last time anything of that sort happens under my watch.”

˚ ༘♡ you swallowed hard, your throat dry as his words sank in. he stepped back slightly, but the tension in the air remained suffocating.

˚ ༘♡ “rules exist for a reason,” he said, his voice strained with warning. “and when they’re broken, there are consequences. severe ones.”

˚ ༘♡ his words dripped with malice, each syllable a remnant of the power he held. you didn’t need to ask what had happened downstairs, the gunshot told you everything. berlin’s words weren’t merely a warning, they were a promise.

˚ ༘♡ you stood there, trembling, your thoughts plagued with what might have led to the shot, who might have paid the price. you didn’t dare ask, he would not tell you. berlin’s gaze lingered on you for a second longer before he turned, his steps swift and purposeful.

˚ ༘♡ “wait,” you called out, your voice hushed but adequate enough to be heard through the quiet.

˚ ༘♡ berlin stopped in his tracks, his body tense, the sharp turn of his head exuding equal parts vexation and interest. his piercing eyes locked onto yours, and for a minute, he said nothing, letting the weight of his stare bear down on you. “what?” he demanded, his tone jeering, eyebrows raised in irritation.

˚ ༘♡ your gaze flicked down to the pistol strapped to his holster, then back up to his face. the thought that had formed in your mind was reckless, desperate, but it burned too fiercely to ignore. perhaps it was the days of isolation gnawing at your sanity, the endless hours of silence breaking you down. perhaps it was the suffocating fear that someone you knew might have just been killed, their life burnt out like a candle while you sat helplessly. or perhaps it was simply madness. whatever the reason, you made your choice.

˚ ༘♡ your legs moved before your mind could catch up. closing the distance between you, your breath unstable as you stood mere inches from him. berlin’s expression flashed with surprise, his body stiffening at your sudden proximity. you leaned in, your trembling lips brushing against his, and kissed him.

˚ ༘♡ for a heartbeat, everything stopped. the air seemed to crackle with tension, your pulse roaring in your ears. you had half-expected him to shove you away, to respond with mockery or fury, but he didn’t. instead, berlin leaned into you, his lips pressing firmly against yours. his hands, strong and willful, slid into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he deepened the kiss. his touch was practiced, commanding, and for a vanishing instant, you felt yourself lose control, immersed in the sudden intimacy.

˚ ༘♡ but the pistol. your mind screamed at you, yanking you back to reality. your hand moved instinctively, reaching for the cold grip of his weapon, but your fingers hesitated, trembling just inches away. the weight of what you were attempting began to sink in. even if you managed to grab it, even if you were fast enough, berlin still had his rifle slung over his shoulder. he was trained, dangerous, and ruthless. you would be dead before you even had a chance to fire. the consequences of your impulsive plan became glaringly clear, and your resolve vanished.

˚ ༘♡ finally, you broke the kiss, your breath uneven as you stepped back, your lips tingling from the lingering heat of his. berlin didn’t move for a short while, his hand still resting in your hair, his expression indistinct. slowly, he straightened, wiping the corner of his mouth with a measured motion. your crimson lipstick had left a faint stain on his lips, a warm mark against his otherwise cold exterior.

˚ ༘♡ he glanced down at his fingers, then back at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “you’re a lovely girl,” he said, his tone soft but laced with condescension, “but don’t you think you’re a little young for me?”

˚ ༘♡ his words stung, slashing through the haze of your reckless attempt. he reached for his pistol, not in alarm, but almost as if reminding you of its presence, and adjusted it in the holster, his gaze glistening with quiet amusement.

˚ ༘♡ “nice try,” he added, his voice low, his smirk widening slightly. “but let me give you some advice, don’t start something you can’t finish.”

˚ ༘♡ the door creaked open again, breaking the heated tension, and this time, it was nairobi and tokyo who stepped inside, their presence an abrupt shift in the air. their eyes immediately fell on you and berlin, and their expressions morphed into those of stunned bewilderment. nairobi’s brows shot up, her gaze drifting between berlin’s crimson-stained lips and your disheveled appearance. your hair was still messy, your lipstick smeared, and your clothes rumpled from the chaos of the last few moments. tokyo’s expression, however, was sharper, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene with a mix of suspicion and barely concealed fury.

˚ ༘♡ “i think our hostage has developed stockholm syndrome,” nairobi said with a laugh, her voice breaking through the awkward atmosphere. her tone was playful, almost teasing, as if she were enjoying the absurdity of the situation.

˚ ༘♡ you flushed with embarrassment, heat rising to your cheeks. being seen like this, vulnerable, exposed, was humiliating, and nairobi’s comment only deepened the shame aching in your chest. you glanced away, trying to avoid their gazes, but it was futile. they had already seen enough.

˚ ༘♡ “berlin!” tokyo snapped, her voice sharp and accusatory. “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

˚ ༘♡ the shift in berlin’s demeanor was immediate and unmistakable. his jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened, his irritation rising to the surface. it was clear from the way he glared at tokyo that he despised her, there was no mistaking the loathing in his face.

˚ ༘♡ “what do you want?” berlin demanded, his tone malicious and impatient. “this better be important.”

˚ ༘♡ tokyo crossed her arms, rolling her eyes at his deflection. “the professor wants to speak to the defense minister’s daughter.”

˚ ༘♡ the mention of the professor sent a chill down your spine. berlin’s presence was terrifying enough, but the professor, this unseen mastermind pulling the strings, was a obscure figure who appeared even more dangerous in his absence.

a/n: let me know your thoughts and if you have anymore requests for money heist!!! 🤍

[movieanimex]

Netflix's New Berlin Series Review: Is It Good or Is It Worse ? Checkout Full Review On MovieAnimeX:-

[depressopax]

NSFW Alphabet

For Andrés de Fonollosa/Berlin

Fandom - La casa de papel/Money Heist

The complete NSFW alphabet for Berlin, based on my LCDP Alphabet.

Pairing: Berlin x gender neutral reader Genre: Smut/headcanons Warning(s): Sexual content. MDNI! Light BDSM, worship, praise and degradation, oral sex, mention of choking kink. Possessiveness & jealousy. Switch!Berlin. Reader is gender neutral! Words: 2.1K Summary: The NSFW alphabet, A-Z, for Andrés de Fonollosa English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3

|| AO3 link || Masterlist || Request ||

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Berlin may have two moods when having sex: - Slow and loving - Fast and hard

However, his aftercare is always the same.

As we know, Berlin is like a totally different person when he’s in love.

You realize so by how sweet he is with you during intimate times.

Whether he’s submissive or dominant in bed (he can do both 😽), he wants you to feel loved afterwards.

But he does enjoy being a tease too lmao

He’ll tell you how good you were, how much he enjoyed it and how amazing you look etc

…But Berlin also likes teasing you for your reactions, how “needy” you were, or simply brag about how amazing he is 

Being an asshole aside…

After being reassured you’re ok, he helps you clean up

Gives you something to drink and offers you a bath or shower (he won’t let you do it alone tho)

Berlin worships you and your body, sexually or not. He just adores you.

But honestly? He is pretty lazy after sex.

He prefers to cuddle you whilst whispering praise to you

Sex makes him sleepy lmao

Besides, his favorite thing to do is have deep conversations with his lover, and have you resting on him naked.

He falls asleep pretty quick, and does so whilst spooning you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself: Hands and neck

He loves how his hands look, especially when they’re on your body and inside of you

…Or around your throat

He likes his neck, and the way your lips feel on it, especially when you leave hickeys on it ;)

It turns him on to see the bruises and marks you leave on him, and doesn’t give A FUCK if people see it - he wants everyone to know he is taken ;)

On you: Your eyes… And ass.

He loves eye contact during sex. 

It says everything to him - if you like what he’s doing, when you’re close, etc… 

It’s also really intimate to look into your eyes whilst pounding into you. 

He adores you, especially those eyes of yours.

Ass too, of course.

He likes the way it feels against his palms, how it looks with AND without clothes… 

Also loves spanking it

…And the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass when he takes you from behind.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Making you cum is his favorite activity.

He likes seeing how many times he can make you cum before you break completely.

The sounds you make, the way your body twitches and squirms, and how your eyes roll back when climaxing… He loves it all. 

He’s not scared to get messy. Berlin likes it when you cum on his fingers, cock, or face. Anything. 

Of course, he likes cumming on you, too.

Not a fan of releasing inside of you, tho. 

When you suck him off, he likes to come in your throat, or pull out and release all over your face.

It makes him feel possessive, seeing you all flustered and covered in his cum- 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes the idea of blindfolding you, often using his own ties or putting satin blindfolds over your eyes.

Knowing you’re completely at his mercy excites him.

He’ll get the chance to use whips on you, tease your skin with feathers and make you shiver with his touch.

…This way, he can tease you too. 

Probably cruel and doesn’t touch you, have you on edge and begging for it.

Only to give you the pleasure needed when you least expect it. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Homeboys have four ex-wives… That’s all I’ll say. 

He knows how to pleasure you, and also knows what he likes in bed.

Very attentive and catches up on what you like and dislike in bed.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style. 

He loves having you on all fours, grabbing your hips and thrusting into you.

The position gives him the opportunity to take you on other places besides the bed.

The kitchen counters, against a table, the shower wall…. You name it. 

This man is creative af lmao

He’s an ass guy, how can he not love doggy?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He can be very serious if you want him too, or if he’s in a bad mood.

But most of the time, he’ll be humorous.

He wants sex to be intimate and passionate

But also want you to have a good time and feel good about yourself.

He tends to be rough, so when your whimpers get too loud, he’ll crack a joke to make you focus on something else. 

His goal is to make you relaxed, satisfied but also to at least smile at something stupid he says.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He doesn’t shave, doesn’t see the point in it.

Body hair is natural to him, and he’s proud of it, too.

But he does keep it trimmed, so it doesn’t get in the way.

He’s kind of a perfectionist, you know?

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Like I said on G: He’s intimate and passionate!

If you ask Berlin, sex is supposed to be just that.

He always makes sure it’s romantic

And if he needs to be cheesy with music, lighted candles and such… He’ll do it. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

To be honest? He does it alot.

BUT… He’d never admit it.

He probably talks about it like masturbation is “lame” or even “disgusting” 

…Yet, he touched himself a lot. 

When single, he uses it as a stress relief.

Before you and him became official, he used to jerk off to thoughts off you.

Even when in a relationship, Berlin masturbates with you on his mind. Or maybe whilst looking at pictures of you.

He’s not a fan of porn, finds it repulsing to watch other people have sex

He instead uses his own imagination, and… Well, you - photos, and even something that smells like you - to get off. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage

Impact play

Dom/sub & discipline

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bed, the couch, against the kitchen counter/table…

Prefers a bit privacy

So anywhere at home where he can bend you over will do it

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Simply… You.

And his own fantasies.

Just imagining what he wants to do with you

Or what he wants YOU to do to him, gets him going.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Threesomes and cuckolding

Anything that has to do with sharing you

Seriously, he’ll get seriously offended if you suggest it 😭

Doesn’t like humiliation, neither on you or him

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Homeboy passionate AF

He adores and worships every single inch of you, so ofc he gives you a lot of attention… Down there ;)

He can spend hours giving you oral pleasure

Not only to satisfy you, but because he genuinely gets turned on from going down on someone. It brings him pleasure too

He loves receiving too

Will have you on your knees, loving the sight of you so submissive and eager to please him

Pushing into your warm mouth, rewarding you with praise and LOUD grunts and moans

He hates being the guy to fuck your face

…But if he gets too into it/eager? He’ll do it and not even feel sorry afterwards

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He likes both but prefers fast - but not necessarily rough. 

He wants it to feel intense and have you plead for more. 

He’s more of a “fast and passionate” kinda guy. 

Going slow only makes him frustrated. He wants the both of you to feel the intensity.

He saves the slow “love-making” for special occasions. 

If he’s frustrated or angry he tends to be rough tho - often without realizing so. 

He’ll slam into you mercilessly, only realizing how rough he is when you whimper underneath him

And he likes teasing you for it. “Aww… Is this too much for you, mi amor?”

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

LOVES quickies!!

What’s there not to like about taking you anywhere, at any time?

He’ll have you bent over a table, pressed against a wall and hit it from behind whenever he feels like it. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He likes it risky ;)

Doing it in public for example

Or testing his pull out game

He’ll have you sweating as he tells you how close he is - but still doesn’t pull out… 

And then, before exploding he’ll pull out and release onto your ass or stomach - he’ll be a smug mf about it too

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go at it for quite a while. He’ll make sure you’re both satisfied

…But he’s insatiable, so it takes a while

He’s a horny bitch lol, so getting ready to take you once again after an orgasm doesn’t take that long.

He can last pretty long, tho. Totally depends on position etc

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I feel like he either has some toys, or that he’s the guy that doesn’t own toys and refuses to use them on his partner, since “he’s better than some stupid toy” 

The toys he has are some vibrators, handcuffs, blindfolds etc… Maybe a whip too, who knows? 

…Bonus point if you switch it up and use them on him

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

UNFAIRRRRRR AF

Will have you on your knees in the end, only because “it’s funny” to see you beg. 💀

He likes turning you on and leave you begging for more

But he won't give it to you that easily…

He also loves making you flustered - you blushing is the cutest thing to him. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is LOUD and without shame

Grunts, growls, moans

Cuss words, praise, degradation… You name it.

He talks shit in the show, and so he does in the bedroom LMAO

…And whimpers, too - if you fuck him good enough…

He likes dirty talking too.

He actually doesn’t mind if the neighbors hear his moans, combined with the sounds leaving your mouth - he wants everyone to know he’s yours, and that you’re his. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Berlin wears suits a lot, right?

To look good and to fit his “fancy” vibes, yes.

BUT…

His suits come in handy other times, too… 

Especially the tie. 

Just pull it a bit when kissing him.

Heck, he even likes it when you pull it too hard, causing him to gasp for air. 

OR… If you use the tie to handcuff him, or blindfold him with it. EVEN USE IT AS A GAG.

The possibilities are endless. You choose - he’s happy with anything ;)

Yup, “he likes it rough”

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He wears boxers, of course.

However… 

When with you, he sometimes skips the underwears.

That way, it’s easier to have you whenever he wants. 

If we’re discussing what’s under those boxers, tho?

He’s an average size, but slightly thicker. 

Lot of visible veins across his length.

Aight, I’m sorry - I’ll show myself out 🚪🚶

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Bro is horny as hell 💀

Wakes up with a boner, and can’t go to sleep at night before a quickie with you. 

He may be a bit “older” but don’t let that trick you.

He has a hot partner like you, ofc his sex drive is high ;)

He wants to be able to satisfy your needs, always. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends. 

Sometime he basically falls asleep minutes after finishing

And he feels guilty af about it later LMAO

So he tries to stay up with you, prioritizing aftercare before sleep.

He absolutely adores you, and seeing you asleep next to him is one of his favorite things.

Knowing that he’s the reason you’re so exhausted makes him want to pamper you with love and affection

But he’s pretty tired, too. So he either falls asleep with you, or as soon as he sees you asleep.

ANDDD that's a wrap for Berlin!!! Hope you guys liked it! <3 Next up - Denver or Tokyo!

[writingbyshiloh]

Medical Drill

Summary: Just more Team Germany stuff in the Toledo House

CW: smoking, FEM! Reader (referred to as “pretty lady”), general Berlin-ness, secret relationships, implied previous smut

AN: I ADORE Moscow so he’s featured in this. If it is disjointed it's bc I wrote half a month ago and another half while making bread. No beta. @soraya-daydreams <3.

WC: 1.65

You rub your eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness of your room and what must have happened to wake you up so fast. The curtain you drew last night is firmly in place, all your belongings are where they should be. You start to lay your head back down. You bolt upright when you hear another knock on your door followed by the Professor stage whispering. 

“Vienna! We need you! Something happened to Moscow! He can’t breathe!” 

There is a high chance it’s a drill. You tell yourself. If something is wrong, he will be in your room shaking you awake. 

With a sigh, you heave yourself out of your bed and start rummaging through the “medical kits” scattered around your room. The real ones for the heist are still being assembled, so you have old books ranging from Care and Keeping of Farm Animals, to Don Quixote, labelled by which kit they are and the supposed contents. The order of them generally goes from the head down, no.1 being head injuries, no.2 and no.3 being neck and heart respectively. You pluck no.4 - lungs - off the floor and sprint out of your room. The hall is quiet, meaning Moscow must be at the checkpoint with the Professor. 

You wince slightly as the steps creek while you run down them. But if you can’t get any sleep, you don’t feel back about the others waking up. Stumbling out the house door you don't even register the temperature change and just keep running. 

Moscow and the Professor are sitting at the outside table quietly talking, while every few seconds the Professor looks at his stopwatch. The night is warm with a clear sky so they don’t seem to mind being awake. You run faster outside, trying to make up for lost time. Slaming the “medical kit” on the table you look up at the Professor (ignoring his wincing at how you treat the medical kit) to get your reaction time. 

“This says number 5 on it.” Moscow tells you. You almost break your neck with how fast you turn your head to look at the book. You see the clear Medical Kit 4 label and look back at Moscow to see if he actually is having a medical emergency. He lets out a small laugh and pats your arm as if to apologize for pranking you. You feel yourself smile despite the early hours of the morning. 

“I’m just messing with you. You did well.” He says. You don’t have it in you to be mad at him, and lightly push his shoulder to let him know you see the funny side. 

“Well, good yes. It’s faster than last week's drill. However, in a heist, every moment is crucial to treat the hostages.” The professor tells you moving his fist to articulate his point. Pulling out a seat you sit next to Moscow, who offers you a cigarette. You nod and he hands you one and his lighter. You force yourself to nod and pay attention to the impromptu lecture knowing you’ll never have to work again in a few months.  

The professor only has a few more comments, things you make mental notes about to try next time before he bids you a good (but quite early) morning and leaves to prepare for the class day. 

“Thanks for doing this,” you say quietly. 

“I used to wake up at 4 in the morning for the mines. This is nothing for me.” Moscow tells you. 

“Mind if I sit with you for a moment? I’m wide awake now, I don’t think I could sleep.” 

Moscow nods and you lapse into a comfortable silence. Moscow is kind to you and praises you in front of Denver for getting an education to gently tease his son. He has ended up being your partner for many heist-related team exercises. At first, it was because his son kept ditching him to team up with Nairobi or Tokyo, but now you prefer to work with him over anyone else. Berlin is a close second. 

“How are things going with your boyfriend?” He asks lighting up another cigarette. You frown thinking over his words while you watch the cherry of the cigarette burn. You don’t tell anyone about previous partners you’ve had before joining the heist, trying to keep going through with the future and ignoring your past. 

“My who?” 

Moscow turns his head to see if you’re joking with him. When he seems you’re not he continues “C'mon, you know. The other half of Team Germany.” He adds extra empathy to the team bit. 

You drop your gaze down to your cigarette in the ashtray. Moscow places his hand on your shoulder and gives it a small squeeze. You like Moscow, he’s like one of those uncles who aren’t blood-related but always there for you. He dances with you after three beers and tells you corny jokes. 

“I, um, we have been ‘seeing each other’ for a few months.” You say, using air quotes to describe the nature of your relation to the leader of the heist. Moscow shows no anger or judgement, just his kind eyes so you keep going. 

“It’s supposed to be causal. And I’m keeping it that way ‘cause who knows what will happen inside the mint. I can see why he was married five times. Part of me wants to go along with it, even after the heist. But I can't risk ruining the money.” 

“Are you going to tell him?” 

You sigh, watching the wind blow through the bushes. You tell yourself you will but there are so many what-ifs it's hard. 

“I’ll decide when we're all on the boat.”

Moscow looks like he has something to add, but isn't sure if he should say it. When he opens his mouth to speak, all that comes out is a bad cough. You rub your hand over his back as he hunches over, carefully watching and waiting before you offer him water or a cough suppressant. Much to your dismay, he resisted, trying to get back to the conversation between you. 

"What were you saying?" he asks. 

"I can't remember." you lie, and Moscow is kind enough to understand the topic of the conversation entirely. 

“Let me cheer you up. Have you heard the one about the doctor and the teacup?" 

You turn to look at him, excited for whatever it could be. 

“Darling, you look exhausted,” Naririobi says joining you at the table for a lunch break. You nod slowly as if each movement is exhausting you, which isn't far from the truth. 

“There was a medical drill last night. I couldn’t sleep after.” You tell her. She nods sympathetically as you reach for another glass of water. 

“Go and nap. I’ll wake you before class starts,” she says. Thanking her you push your chair into the table and start to make your way to the stairs. 

You’re so close to your bed that you can almost feel the soft pillow under your head when a hand reaches for your wrist. Too tired to question or pull your hand back you just follow the hand to an arm clad in an expensive suit jacket, to a handsome face. 

You blink slowly, not to be seductive but to try and get some moisture back into your tired eyes. It helps but also puts you closer to an eye twitch.

“Hey pretty lady, where are you going?” he asks quietly. Everyone else is downstairs eating or outside to enjoy the summer but you appreciate his commitment to keeping it hidden. 

“To bed.” 

You watch his lips curve into a sharp smile, thinking you’re going to take him with you. 

“In the middle of the day? When is everyone awake? That’s risky for you.” He gently twists your wrist so he can kiss the back of your hand. “I like it.” 

“I’m going to my bed, alone, to nap,” you correct him, making no moves to pull your wrist back.

“How much time did the Professor say was an efficient nap? 20 minutes?” he twists his wrist to check his watch, shaking your arm in the process. “You can nap and we still have another 30 to spend together.” 

He chuckles as you shift your weight, seriously considering his proposal. 

The rapid heavy thumps of footsteps on the stairs make Berlin drop your hand and turn around. You bend at your side to peep over his shoulder to see who is coming. Denver comes into view first, with Moscow starting to loom behind him. 

You see Denver nudge Moscow to start speaking, some questions addressed to Berlin, something about the phone that will be wired to the Professor. 

“As you can see, I’m talking to Vienna right now,” Berlin says, turning back to you. He looks apologetic that your time together will have to be cut short. 

You wave a hand in front of your face. “I have to nap anyway. We'll continue this later?” 

Berlin smiles at your words, hearing the subtext in them and nodding in agreement. Turning back to the other men, you’re sure he’s still smiling. As he and Denver descend the stairs, Moscow catches your eye and gives you a friendly wink. One that just screams I was young once too. 

Face burning, you rush into your room, kick off your shoes and settle into bed. Even though you know you won’t be able to fall asleep now.  

[dilfismz]

Hi! Can you write jealous professor dom!cho sangwoo x student sub!reader. Can you make sangwoo become real mad and some spanking too? Thank you so so much 🥹🥹

Mine

Summary: Turns out Professor Cho doesn’t like it when stupid young boys touch what’s his.

A/N: there are a few flashback scenes in order to build a backstory so don’t be confused!

Warnings: age gap, inappropriate teacher/student relationship, spanking, some degradation?, p in v, no prep (Sangwoo is desperate), dom/sub dynamics, and hair pulling.

In all honesty, you and Professor Cho had become close by complete accident. If you could even call it close…more so acquainted. You could recall every detail of your night spent together as if it had just occurred. Every single time you step foot into his lecture hall you can’t help but reminisce.

⋆ ──── ❍ Δ □ ──── ⋆

The bar was quiet that night, many students in their dorms studying for finals. Luckily for you, yours had concluded in one long, godforsaken day. It was tough but the reward was getting to celebrate the end of the semester early.

Sliding into a seat with your friend you spot him. He was seated a few spots down, leaning casually against the bar. He looked out of place in his crisp, tailored shirt and sharp jawline—older than most of the patrons and far more composed. His presence seemed to draw attention without trying, though he didn’t seem interested in anyone else around him.

You weren’t sure why you caught his eye, but you did. His gaze lingered on you for a moment before he spoke, his deep voice cutting through the noise.

“Not a regular here, are you?”

You smiled faintly, shaking your head. “Does it show?”

“Just a little,” he said, taking a sip from his glass. “You seem…young for this crowd.”

The comment made your cheeks flush slightly, but you held his gaze. “Maybe. But you don’t exactly blend in yourself.”

He chuckled, low and warm, and moved to sit closer. “Fair enough. I’m Sangwoo.”

You gave your name, and from there, the conversation flowed with surprising ease. You told him about your studies, your aspirations, and the stress that had driven you here tonight. He listened intently, asking thoughtful questions that felt more probing than casual small talk.

“I have to say,” he murmured at one point, leaning in just slightly, “I don’t usually find myself talking like this with someone… your age.”

You shrugged, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened. “Maybe age doesn’t matter as much as you think.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze flicking to your lips before returning to your eyes. “Maybe.”

The air between you shifted, heavy and undeniable. When he suggested leaving, you didn’t hesitate.

The night blurred into stolen kisses in the cab, whispered words, and the heat of his hands on your skin. You fell into his bed with reckless abandon, the difference in your years forgotten in the haze of passion.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, forcing your eyes open. The unfamiliar room was quiet, save for the soft sound of breathing beside you.

You turned your head to see Sangwoo lying on his back, his arm resting over his eyes. The sharp lines of his face were softened by the light, but there was a tension in his expression that hadn’t been there the night before.

“Good morning,” you said quietly, unsure of what else to say.

He let out a soft sigh, finally lowering his arm to look at you. His eyes were darker now, clouded with something that felt like regret.

“This… probably shouldn’t have happened,” he said, his voice low.

The words stung, even though you’d expected them. “Why not?”

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. “You’re young. Too young to be tangled up with someone like me.” His tone wasn’t harsh, but there was a firmness to it that made your stomach twist.

You sat up too, pulling the sheet around you. “You didn’t seem to mind last night.”

“That was a mistake,” he said, glancing at you briefly before looking away. “I should’ve known better.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the warmth of the night before replaced with a cold, sinking feeling. You wanted to say something, to argue that you were old enough to make your own decisions, but the look on his face stopped you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, standing and reaching for his shirt. “You’re… incredible. But this can’t happen again.”

As he moved about the room, dressing and avoiding your gaze, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever been more than a fleeting distraction to him.

⋆ ──── ❍ Δ □ ──── ⋆

Another thing you always thought of when you’d step into Professor Cho’s room is the moment you’d realized just how disastrous your night together actually was.

The first day of the new semester carried the usual energy—a mix of fresh starts and quiet dread. Students milled into the lecture hall, some chatting excitedly, others scrolling through their phones or sipping lukewarm coffee. You were somewhere in the middle, adjusting the strap of your bag as you stepped into the massive room.

You hadn’t given much thought to your schedule beyond the requirements you needed to fill. This class—some upper-level finance course you had reluctantly signed up for—was just another stepping stone toward your degree. You were more concerned with surviving the workload than anything else.

That was, until you looked up.

Your heart nearly stopped.

There, standing at the podium, flipping through a stack of papers with an air of quiet authority, was him.

Cho Sangwoo.

Your throat went dry.

For a second, you thought you had to be mistaken. But there was no mistaking him—not the sharp jawline, not the dark, intelligent eyes that had lingered on you once in the glow of a streetlamp, not the hands you could still feel on your skin if you let your mind wander too far.

You froze mid-step, the chatter of the other students fading into white noise. The last time you’d seen him, he had been pulling his shirt over his head in a dimly lit bedroom, his words clipped, his expression guarded.

“This can’t happen again.”

And yet, here you were.

And here he was.

As if sensing your gaze, Sangwoo glanced up from his notes.

The reaction was instant.

His confident posture faltered, his fingers tightening slightly around the edges of his papers. His brows lifted just barely before his eyes widened in unmistakable shock. You saw the exact moment recognition hit him, watched the composed, professional mask he undoubtedly wore every day crack—just for a second.

A blush rose to his face.

It was slight, barely there, but enough for you to notice. Enough for you to know that despite his careful words that morning, despite whatever lines he had drawn in his mind between you, the sight of you standing in his lecture hall had caught him completely off guard.

The confident, articulate professor—who had surely done this a thousand times, who commanded rooms full of students without hesitation—had lost his composure.

Your stomach twisted.

For a fleeting moment, it felt like you were back in that dimly lit bar, your bodies too close, your words laced with the kind of reckless flirtation that had led to this. The memory burned through you so suddenly that you were sure it showed on your face.

But then, just as quickly as the moment had come, you watched him shove it back down.

Sangwoo cleared his throat sharply, turning his attention back to his papers. The color in his face faded as he schooled his expression into something unreadable, his professional demeanor snapping back into place like a steel trap.

But you had seen it.

You had felt it.

And now, you had to sit through an entire semester pretending it had never happened.

Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to move, slipping into a seat near the middle of the lecture hall. Around you, students continued their chatter, completely unaware of the silent war raging inside your head—or his.

Sangwoo took a breath, straightened his tie, and finally spoke. His voice was steady, controlled.

“Good morning. Welcome to Financial Strategies.”

If you hadn’t seen the way his hands curled slightly against the podium, you might have believed he was completely unaffected.

But you had seen it.

And you weren’t sure either of you would be able to ignore it.

That day, after class ended you sat frozen in your seat, your fingers gripping the edge of your desk as if that could steady the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

Sangwoo hadn’t looked at you once throughout the entire lecture.

Not directly, at least.

Instead, his eyes had skimmed over you like you were just another student, his voice measured, his posture rigid. But there were moments—fleeting, barely-there moments—where his fingers tensed slightly on the podium, where his breath hitched in the smallest, most imperceptible way before he forced himself forward.

And now, as you remained seated while the rest of the students shuffled out, he still wouldn’t meet your gaze.

“Stay after,” he had said near the end of class, his voice neutral, yet somehow sharp.

You knew this conversation was coming. There was no avoiding it.

Sangwoo stood by his desk now, organizing papers that didn’t need organizing, straightening his laptop screen only to close it again. It was almost frustrating—watching him fidget with anything but you.

Finally, he exhaled through his nose, as if bracing himself.

“If you wish to remain in this class,” he started, his voice clipped, “you will forget about what happened between us.”

You swallowed, gripping your bag strap tightly, but said nothing.

He continued, his expression carefully blank, though you could see the tension in his jaw. “It was… inappropriate. A mistake.” His fingers curled around the edge of his desk, the only sign that his control wasn’t as steady as he wanted it to be. “And it cannot affect your education.”

Your throat felt tight.

He was speaking to you as though that night had been some careless accident, as though it hadn’t been charged with something real. And yet, even as he spoke, his voice was too deliberate, too forced, like he was convincing himself as much as he was convincing you.

But you didn’t miss the way his fingers twitched slightly against the desk.

Your gaze dropped to his hands—the same slender hands that had once roamed your body, tracing paths of fire along your skin.

You could still feel them if you thought about it long enough. The way they had tangled in your hair, how his fingertips had brushed over your bare waist with aching slowness, how they had tightened possessively around your wrist just before he kissed you—

“Are you listening?”

Your head snapped up.

Sangwoo was watching you now, his brow furrowed slightly, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

You nodded, trying to ignore the heat rising in your face.

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face before crossing his arms. “Good,” he muttered. “Because I can’t have distractions in my classroom. Whatever… that was, it’s over. Understood?”

His words were cruelly impersonal, but his body language betrayed him. The stiffness of his shoulders, the way he seemed almost restless standing still, as if part of him wanted to move, to do something else.

You wondered if he was remembering it, too.

The weight of him pressing you into the mattress. The way he had looked at you, his usual self-control slipping with every kiss, every touch.

You sat up a little straighter, ignoring the pang in your chest. “Understood,” you said quietly, though the words felt like a lie.

For a moment, he didn’t move.

His fingers tapped once against the desk. Then again.

Then, as if snapping himself out of something, he turned away, collecting his things with more force than necessary. “You’re dismissed,” he said, not looking at you.

You hesitated.

But there was nothing left to say.

So you grabbed your bag and walked toward the door, feeling his eyes on your back even though he had told himself not to look.

————-

Now here you are today and you have done exactly what Sangwoo asked.

For months, you kept your distance, pretending as though nothing had ever happened between you. No lingering glances, no hesitation when he called on you in class, no trace of the night you had spent tangled in his sheets. You became cold, detached—indifferent.

And it was driving him insane.

At first, he convinced himself that this was what he wanted. That this was the right thing.

But then Jisoo happened.

A boy your age. Bright-eyed, eager, always quick with a joke that made you laugh—actually laugh. You had never laughed like that in his class before. Not when you were with him.

Sangwoo ignored it at first.

But then it happened again.

And again.

Soft whispers shared between the two of you, your heads leaning close as if nothing else in the room existed. His blood simmered every time Jisoo touched your arm, every time he caught you smiling at him—every time he saw you looking at Jisoo the way you used to look at him.

But today was the worst of it.

Today, Jisoo had whispered something in your ear, and your face had gone warm—cheeks flushed, lips parting just slightly in surprise before you giggled.

Sangwoo gripped his pen so hard it nearly snapped.

The moment class ended, his voice cut through the murmurs of students packing up their things.

“Stay after.”

Jisoo glanced at you, curious. You barely reacted, nodding as you finished gathering your notes.

The last student filtered out.

The door clicked shut.

Silence.

Sangwoo remained standing at the front of the classroom, bracing his hands against the desk, his head tilted downward. You could see the tension in him—the way his fingers curled, the way his breaths left him in slow, controlled exhales.

You knew this was coming.

You waited.

And then, finally, he spoke.

“Tell me,” his voice was low, measured. “Do you plan to seduce him the way you seduced me?”

Your heart stuttered.

The accusation hung heavy between you, thickening the air, making it harder to breathe.

“What?”

Sangwoo lifted his gaze, and for the first time in months, his carefully constructed mask had cracked.

No indifference. No feigned professionalism. Only raw frustration—barely-restrained jealousy simmering beneath the surface.

He took a step forward, slow and deliberate.

“You heard me,” he murmured, his voice dark. “Is that your plan? To make him desperate for you? To make him think, even for a second, that he can satisfy you the way I did?”

Heat pooled in your stomach, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. “That’s not—”

He scoffed. “Not what?” Another step forward. “Not true? You don’t think I see the way he looks at you? The way you let him lean into you, whisper in your ear?”

His jaw clenched.

“Do you think he can touch you like I did?” His voice dropped lower, barely above a whisper. “Think he can even attempt to please you?”

Your breath hitched.

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides, knuckles whitening. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you forced out.

His lips quirked up—not in amusement, but something far crueler.

“Liar.”

Your stomach flipped.

You hated how easily he unraveled you.

Sangwoo exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t care,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “I told myself I wouldn’t.”

You swallowed hard.

“But then I see you with him,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “I see you laughing, smiling, and I—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply as if disgusted by the confession sitting on his tongue.

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

“You’ve been punishing me,” he murmured. “All these months, Ive been trying to forget, trying to pretend it never happened—but it did. And here you are pulling this shit right in front of me.”

His fingers twitched.

“And it still matters to you…”, you intended to ask but it came out more like a statement.

Sangwoo inhaled sharply, and before you could react, his hand shot out—grasping your wrist.

Your breath caught.

His fingers, long and slender, wrapped around your skin. Not tight. Not pulling. Just holding.

A mistake.

A reckless, dangerous mistake.

But neither of you moved to stop it.

“You don’t get it,” he murmured, his voice lower, almost pained. “I broke the rules for you once.”

Your throat went dry.

His fingers slid down, tracing your palm before hesitantly releasing you.

Then, barely above a whisper—so quiet you almost missed it—he admitted:

“I think I’d break them again.”

Your stomach clenched.

Sangwoo exhaled slowly, looking at you as if he were already regretting saying it out loud. But it was there now. It couldn’t be unsaid.

For the first time in months, he wasn’t telling you to forget.

He wasn’t telling you to leave.

Instead, his voice was quiet. Measured. Unsteady.

“Stay, it’s your turn to be punished.”

You take a tentative step in his direction, testing the waters. Sangwoo blinks slowly, looking you up and down, “You stay there”, he commands while walking to the lecture hall door. He locks it with a flick of his wrist and returns.

He sits on his chair behind the large desk he often spends hours sitting at. He spreads his thighs, patting them expectantly.

You take this as a sign to straddle him but he immediately grunts in dissatisfaction. “No, bend over my knees, face down ass up”.

You flush at the command, all self respect fleeing your body as you comply without a second thought.

Tch tch

He clicks his tongue mockingly, all while lifting your skirt up to expose your plump ass, barely covered by a tiny thong.

“Now did you wear this for me or him”, Sangwoo asks, a scowl etched onto his features.

“You Sangwoo, always for you-”, before you could finish your sentence a loud smack echoes throughout the lecture room. Before you can even register the pain another red hot slap lands on your bottom, leaving you breathless.

“It’s sir”, he commands, a shit eating grin already overtaking his features.

“Y-yes sir”, you respond.

“Good fucking slut, finally you do something right. Maybe I should’ve done this right away, then we never would have had that silly little problem huh?”

You simply nod, his words going in one ear and out the other. Sangwoo pulls your hair harshly, forcing your head back to look at him.

“Speak when you’re spoken to”, he commands, his other hand landing another firm slap to your stinging ass.

“Yes sir-“, you moan as he kneeds the sensitive flesh, “-wish you would’ve done this sooner.”

He nods in approval, forcing you off of his legs and pushing you against his desk.

You can hear him unbuckle his belt and all but shake with anticipation. You’ve waited oh so long to feel him again.

Suddenly his swollen tip is prodding at your entrance, your thong pulled to the side. Sangwoo lets out a heavy sigh and declares, “I’ve waited way too damn long to do this again…now tell me have you been whoring around campus or is the last time your pussy got stretched with me?”

“Y-you sir, haven’t done anything since that night”, you splutter out, backing up into him, hoping he’ll just push in already.

“Good girl, that’s what I like to hear”, he says right before completely bottoming out in one harsh thrust.

Sangwoo doesn’t start out gentle, he keeps thrusting into you slowly but oh so roughly. You swear you can feel him reaching spots even he didn’t hit last time.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as his hands grip your hips with a bruising force. He scoffs at your desperate mewls, “I won’t last long sweetheart so you’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful, ya?”

“Yes sir”

Sangwoo can feel his glasses slipping down his nose as his pace quickens. The entire room is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and its filthy.

“Please don’t stop sir I’m close”, you beg as you feel that all too familiar feeling within you.

He doesn’t stop. His hands gripping you even tighter as he grits his teeth, cock twitching as your gummy walls suck him in.

“Fuck, it’s like this pussy was made for me, can’t believe I stayed away for so long”, he gasps out.

That’s all the praise you needed to reach your peak. Your walls spasm around Sangwoo and he continues his assault on your insides, coming to an abrupt stop as you feel his warm seed fill you up.

The both of you are a panting mess and he runs his hands through his own hair, pushing him glasses back up his nose.

When Sangwoo finally pulls out he sighs and looks at your pathetic form in front of him.

“Clean yourself up and we’ll have a serious conversation about how this arrangement is gonna work.”